Stan's Fantasies
by Madame Onyx
Summary: If I had to keep these words caged up inside me just so I could stay by him forever, I would. stanXkyle, slight craigXtweek, OC plays major part in getting them together. Give it a try.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my first South Park Fanfic. I just recently fell in love with this StanXKyle pairing, and thought I'd give it a shot. I plan on turning this into a full story later, so keep posted. **

** *Also: If any of you are wondering why I haven't** **published the next installment of "Desire" it's because I have been both lazy and busy with homework and THREE softball games pretty much each week. So…patience, please.***

Stan

_God dammit. _

I rubbed the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes tightly closed, like maybe I'd be able to make myself invisible from _him_. Mr. – um, Ms. Garrison walked back over to her desk and sat down, writing some really pissed-off letter to God-knows-who. I still could not fucking believe she had actually gotten promoted to be my tenth grade science teacher. It was ridiculous. First off, the psychopath didn't know half the shit she was talking about. Second, his/her classroom was right by my locker, which meant I was always near him/her. Like the lonely old He-Woman just couldn't stay away from us.

Speaking of 'us'…

Kenny sat down in the seat next to me, watching me out of the corner of his eye; he had taken down his hood and let the messy, golden hair grown to just below his ear, where he would sometimes put in a barrette or hair ribbon that the girls would give him. Those chicks practically drooled over every word he said; he'd casually, even automatically say "Hey," and it's like he just asked them for their hands in marriage.

Cartman sat down across from Kenny; at 6 foot 4 inches and well over 200 pounds, Cartman wasn't so much fat anymore as just ridiculously _huge_. Everything about him was thick, from his neck to his ankles. He had mellowed out a bit, and not surprisingly he didn't go out for any sports, being the lazy shit he was. But he was still a jackass of epic proportions.

Kenny ran his fingers over today's blue ribbon that matched his eyes. "What's with that shit-faced expression, Stan? Aren't you happy to see us?" He winked at some girls across the room that broke out in giggles and blushes.

"No. Go away."

I kept my eyes on those red curls near the window. Even though Ms. Garrison had just announced Kyle and me as partners, the red-head showed no sign of moving towards me. I knew why. Kyle knew why. And, unfortunately, Cartman knew why.

I controlled the urge to scream out in frustration and instead buried my head in my arms, trying to hide my black eye from fat-ass Cartman's stupid smirk.

It happened a week ago, during spring break. Cartman's mom and her current boyfriend took him to Disneyland for the entire week, along with Kenny. Pip and Tweek (the nicknames still stuck even today) went on a road trip to California with Craig, who brought like five girls with him.

My schedule consisted of lots of sleeping and Call of Duty on Xbox 360. Mine and Kyle's parents had won a week's stay at the new hotel in Las Vegas, meals and rooms paid for. Kyle's mom won't let her 16-year-old son stay home alone, no matter how much he begged.

"Remember," Mom told me as she was packing her bags, "get to bed at a decent hour, eat three full meals a day, no parties, and I swear if Wendy or that Bebe come over –"

"Mom, chill." I rolled my eyes. "Me and Wendy broke up like a year ago. And Bebe can't stand me."

"Still," she said, walking over to me and giving me a kiss on my forehead, "I want you and Kyle to be careful. Always have your phones on you. Don't answer the door for anyone suspicious. And remember that if you have sex –"

"Mom!" I yelled, covering my ears and running down the hall to my room. Midway there I heard the doorbell ring and felt my heart actually skip a beat as I saw the green silhouette of Kyle's ushanka.

I forced myself to calm down. Come on now, he's my best friend. My _male _best friend. But when he stepped in through the door, I couldn't help but just look at him for a moment.

He was as lanky as Cartman was tall, and he was skinny, but not in a grotesque way like supermodels are. He was shorter and skinnier than any of our group, and this Cartman ragged on pretty much every day. His eyes were bright green jades, his hair still a fiery red, but much less afro-like and curlier, hanging down past his ears.

I shook off the unwanted dirty thoughts that flashed through my brain and forced myself to slow down to a walk down the stairs.

"Hey dude," I greeted him casually.

The jades looked up at me and smiled. "Hey man. Thanks for letting me stay over."

"No big deal." I shrugged as his mom came in. "My mom wants you here anyway; she says you're a 'good influence' on me."

"Really?" Kyle asked, setting down his bag, "because my mom swears you're a 'bad influence' on me."

It was kind of true. I never did homework unless Kyle nagged me to, and I was always tempting him away from projects wit promises of arcades and giant pretzels at the mall.

We grinned at each other as out moms stared talking. Eventually Dad walked into the room wearing his Speedo, modeling it for us from every angle. _Every angle. _When I saw how freaked out Kyle looked, (who WOULDN'T be freaked out?)I decided it was time for them to go.

Casually I checked the clock. "Hey, doesn't your flight leave in, like, an hour?" Actually our clock had always been two hours fast, but in all their excitement my parents totally forgot and almost screamed.

"God-dammit Sharon! We're going to be late! Where are my pants?"

"Sheila, get the car! Okay boys, have fun!"

"But not TOO much fun, got it?" Kyle's mother said in that God-awful voice of hers. The door slammed, yelling from outside was heard, and then we were alone in a quiet house with no parents.

Awkward pause.

"You…hungry?" I asked in what I hoped was a smooth line.

"Starving, dude."

"Hold on. Let's see what my Mom stashed away for us."

I walked into the kitchen as Kyle called out, "Where do I put my stuff?"

"You can put it in my room. We'll work on your sleeping arrangement later."

"Cool. Be back down in a sec."

Sleeping arrangements…where _was _Kyle going to sleep? On the couch? No, he was too tall for it. Floor? Maybe, if he brought a sleeping bag. I wasn't really paying attention to his luggage at the time.

What if he slept in my bed? With me? Suddenly I was pulling my blue tee down lower to hide the tent in my pants. I heard Kyle's footsteps coming down the stairs and opened the fridge quickly, scanning over the food.

"Um, okay, we have some leftover lasagna, stuff for sandwiches, cereal…" I opened the freezer and my mouth dropped open. "Holy crap dude! She bought us like ten bags of pizza rolls!"

"Sweet. I love pizza rolls."

"Okay," I said, going through the bags. "Do you want cheese, pepperoni, or combination?" I picked out three of the packets and turned to him, reading the labels. "Personally, my favorite is just good old cheese, but if you…"

It was kind of stupid for me to look up. I mean, if imagining Kyle fully clothed on my bed gave me a boner, the image in front of me might have put me in a coma. I cannot express in words how fucking sexy he looked, but I'll give it my best shot.

First off, he had his hat off, which left wavy curls of red hair flowing around his face. Second, he was wearing a green sweater I had never seen before that stuck to his body like a second skin, showing off his lean torso and really–God this sounds SO gay—bringing out those incredible eyes. His worn jeans were hugging his waist and thighs, and his socks mismatched in the cutest way possible.

I almost threw down the stupid pizza rolls and lunged at him.

A moment passed by, and suddenly Kyle was right in front of me, a pissed off look on his face. "Stan, are you listening? I said cheese is fine—I can't eat pork anyway."

It took me a moment to translate the words from that sexy mouth. "Right…cheese it is." Kyle gave me a look like, _Were you dropped on your head as a baby?_ and walked into the living room.

"Hey, by the way, where's Shelley?"

I turned on the oven and tried to will my, ah, manhood to calm down. "My sister ran off with her new boyfriend like three weeks ago. Mom wasn't too happy about it."

"Does that mean we can trash her room?"

I laughed and slid the tray of pizza rolls in the oven. "Yeah, right, if you want her to castrate you."

I set the timer and walked into the living room with him. Outside it was grey and the air was heavy, all signs that there'd be a storm later.

"I was going to suggest riding your four-wheelers, but I'm pretty sure it'll start raining soon," Kyle said, slumping onto the couch with his legs and arms spread out comfortably.

_I can think of another thing you could ride, _I thought, feeling my cheeks blush. Kyle looked up and noticed.

"Dude, are you okay? You look like you have a fever…" Kyle stood up and felt my forehead. The moment I felt his cool fingers brush my skin I flinched and held myself back from pinning him down on the floor.

"I-I'm fine, really. C'mon, let's play some Mortal Combat."

Kyle raised an eyebrow but sat down in front of the screen anyway and did some exaggerated stretches. "Fine. But your ass is mine, Marsh." He said with a cocky grin.

_Uh-uh baby. It's your ass that's gonna be MINE. _

Kyle

For three days all Stan and I did was eat pizza rolls for every meal except breakfast, play video games, go skateboarding once, hung out at the mall and watched tv. And it sounds boring, but it was with Stan. So it was pretty much kick-ass.

On Wednesday we woke up at about two p.m. (after going to bed at three in the morning) and just lounged around in our pj's since it was another rainy day. Stan stood by the window, watching the rain pour down as he sipped a Coke. He was in some sweats and an old Colorado State tee-shirt. I just wore my basketball shorts and a white muscle shirt because everything else was in the washer.

I lifted up my arms to stretch and cringed at the smell wafting from my underarms.

"Ugh. Dude, I need to shower. Can I borrow some clothes?"

Stan turned and looked at me with sea-blue eyes. "Sure, but I can't promise they'll fit…on account of my huge, manly muscles." He struck a few poses. I rolled my eyes and laughed. It was relaxing to have him acting like himself again. Lately he'd been kind of zoned out and acting nervous and he'd make up some bull-shit excuse for it. I think it started around the time he and Wendy had broken up for, like, the twentieth time a few months ago.

"You saying I'm not manly?" I asked in mock anger. I picked up a pillow and threw it at him; direct hit in the face. Stan had always had slow reflexes. I tackled him, the way we used to wrestle, and started to force him on the floor.

"Now who's got huge muscles, Stan?" I laughed as he grunted in surprise. Then he got over the sneak attack and easily pushed me off.

"I kicked your ass in Mortal Combat, I'll do it in real life, Kyle," he grinned evilly. "I am the _king._"

With a laugh I pivoted away from him and ran up the stairs, hearing his breath behind me the entire time. "You'll have to catch me first, video game _nerd_," I shouted as I turned the hallway and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door close.

He knocked to get in, but I locked the door. "Leave some clothes for me outside, will ya?" I called in a victorious voice.

I heard him kick the door, then mutter on his way to his room. I smiled as I undressed, turning on the hot water and finding the shampoo. My knee accidentally knocked over a red bottle of Swiss Army body wash that was half-full. As I picked it up I caught a smell of the woodsy fragrance coming from it, and thought it smelled familiar. I realized this must be Stan's shower and blushed, quickly putting it back.

After drying off I gripped the handle; it was unlocked. Had Stan gotten it unlocked from the outside? With a jolt I realized the clothes I had been wearing were gone. He had snuck in while I was showering! Rolling my eyes I opened the door and felt for the clothes Stan got for me. I felt the fabric under my fingers and grabbed them, quickly shutting the door. I didn't want anyone to see me naked.

I looked down and almost screamed.

It was a pink nightgown. A _lacey _pink nightgown. And I didn't see any boxers or anything.

I was going to fucking kill him. The bastard had thought it through; take my old clothes and leave nothing else for me to put on. Too damn bad, I wasn't wearing it. I tied the towel around my waist and stomped down to his room, pissed. I'd just get some of his clothes myself. I turned the knob.

It was locked.

Now I was going to kill him twice.

What little patience I had was used up and I ran down the stairs, gripping the nightgown in my hand. I burst into the living room where Stan was trying way too hard to not notice me.

"STAN!"

He turned and looked at me.

During this point, I would have expected him to laugh his fucking head off and fall on the flooring laughing so hard he pissed himself. There I was, standing pretty much naked with just a rather _small _towel around my private regions, holding a frilly pink nightgown in the cool air, with water dripping off my stupid hair and on my arms and chest. Damn, it was cold. In retrospect, it was amazing my nipples didn't pierce through the doors.

But what actually happened threw me completely off guard. Stan was absolutely motionless—I don't even think he was breathing—and I was worried he'd gone into a coma or something. Then all at once his entire face turned holy hell-red and he jumped up and ran into the downstairs toilet.

As you can imagine, I wasn't really sure of what I was supposed to be doing. I walked cautiously over to the door, throwing the freakin' nightgown on the couch. I listened to the door and heard muffled sounds coming through.

"Stan?" I asked quietly. I heard something like a whimper. I swear to you, it was a whimper or some shit like that.

"Are you…crying?" No reply, but more sounds came from behind the door.

"Kyle," I heard him say all breathy, "I-I'm not f…feeling good. Dammit…" I heard another moan. "Just…go away…ungh…for a while."

For some reason my heart was speeding and my face heated up bright red. My palms felt sweaty, and the rest of my skin was clammy. But worry for my friend overcame any kind of stupid thing I thought _might _be happening.

"No way," I said loudly, grabbing the handle. "You sound like you…

I turned the knob.

"…need some…"

I opened the door.

"…help. What's—"

HOLY. FUCKING. CHRIST.

Stan was standing against the opposite wall, facing the door and giving me a good look at him with his hand down his pants. His eyes were squeezed closed, his mouth partially opened and making small noises, his face red.

His eyes opened and he saw me. We stared into each other's gazes.

And then he shook all over and his cum dripped on the floor.

What the hell—what was he—why was he—

I just stood there. Uncertainty froze me in place. What was I going to do? Did Stan just masturbate to _me_?

Stan's eyes opened again and he looked at me.

"It…it was suppose to be a funny joke…but I—I didn't think you'd be all…wet…I'm sorry. I wish things would be…normal, again." Another shudder ran up his body. And, unfortunately, one ran up mine too. I couldn't help it. His voice was husky, and the entire bathroom smelled of lust, and, well…it wasn't like seeing Stan jerking himself off to me wasn't erotic. I suddenly found myself with a very obvious erection poking at my towel.

Stan noticed.

"W—wait!"

I held out my arms to stop him, but he grabbed my wrists and pulled me into him, and his hungry mouth met mine.

Stan moaned into the kiss as his tongue delved deep into my mouth, swirling it around and running it along my tongue. My head spun and I pulled away, gasping for air. Stan took it as an opportunity to push me over to the couch and shove me onto the cushions.

"Stan, wait! Cut it out, you bas—mmph!"

His lips were on mine again, twisting his head and angling his mouth to deepen the kiss. His hands were on my biceps, and I felt his right one slide down my chest over a nipple. It was like a jolt ran through my body and I threw back my head, disconnecting the second kiss.

"A-ah!" I cried like a fucking girl as he sucked my neck hard, than licked at the mark he'd made. He kept kissing my neck and rubbing his palm on my nipple, making me writher. All rational thought had been pushed out of my mind. It's like nothing mattered except for his mouth on my throat, his hands on my—?

"What are you doing?" I squeaked out as he placed his hands at the top of the towel. He raised his head to look at me and I saw his pupils were huge, his mouth parted and letting out pants.

Stan leaned forward and brushed his lips against my ear.

"Nothing you won't like."

He bit down on the shell of my ear and a moan flew from my mouth as he pulled off my towel at the exact same instant.

"Ooh…oh, fuck…"

I felt him grip my dick with a steady hand and start moving up and down, ever so slightly twisting his fingers at the end. My entire body felt on fire, every skin cell he licked and touched exploding. He gave me one long stroke that curled my toes and made me arch my back off the couch for a moment.

"Oh, GOD YES!"

Stan started stroking faster and harder, his breathing growing more erratic in my ear. I realized he must have been enjoying this even more than I was.

"Fuck, Kyle." He rasped into my ear, "Your voice…and you're…just so…" He grunted as he squeezed my length and bit down on my shoulder.

My body felt air-light and my stomach muscles clenched. I started shouting things I can't even remember as the moment came and I screamed Stan's name as he kept pumping, only aware of the brilliant feeling that sent my brain into white light and my entire body zinging with pleasure.

We laid there until our breathing slowed and I was able to think again. First embarrassment, then anger, then confusion hit me one by one like a brick wall. Almost blind with rage, I stood up and yelled, "You MOTHER-FUCKING PERVERT!" And slammed him hard in the eye with my fist.

He cried out and recoiled as I stomped away, picking up the towel and covering myself with it until I reached the drier; my stuff was only half-dried, but I didn't care. I got dressed and found my sneakers at the front door.

"Kyle! Hold on!"

Stan ran over to the hallway, his eye already swelling.

We stared at each other.

"What!"

He scratched his neck. "I…I'm s—"

"You're 'sorry'? You're 'sorry' about molesting your best friend? You asshole, don't tell me you're fucking sorry. I'll get my stuff later," I walked out and slammed the door behind me, running home in the rain.

Stan

On Monday, I went straight to his locker and found him putting his books in his bag half-heartedly. He looked up and when he saw me, glared and full-out ignored me.

My eye had stopped swelling, but it was still purplish-black, and I noticed that Kyle wore a turtleneck today. With pride I remembered my hickey I'd given him, and then felt extremely guilty.

"…Hey Kyle."

No response.

"I want to talk about—"

He slammed his locker close and glared at me. Even pissed off, he was so sexy and—_focus, brain_!

"We are never talking about _that _again. Ever. You molested me, there, it was said, and you're a bastard. Now fuck off, Stan. I've got to get to class."

I felt my heart sink as he stalked off, pushing past a gang of giggling girls. I couldn't remember a time I had felt more rejected in my entire life; I suppose I should have counted myself lucky that he even spoke to me still and didn't just punch me again.

I heard a familiar chuckle from behind the corner and Cartman came waltzing out, a half-eaten Pop-Tart in his hand.

"Well, well, what have you done to poor _Kahl_?"

I felt a moment of fear. "Nothing. We just…had a fight." _A fight that gave me more wet dreams in a few days then I'd had for weeks. _

He took a bite, crumbs falling on his jacket in a not-so graceful manner. "I heard quite a different story from Jewboy…_Fagboy," _he directed at me, smiling like a fucking demon. I turned away and went to class, dreading third period when I'd have chemistry with Kyle.

**Um…I was kind of blanking on what Cartman should say, so…yeah. Review please! (oh, and watch out for that nightgown—it WILL make another appearance :3) ((Unfortunately, it won't be anytime soon****))**


	2. Tricky

**So I tried the whole "first-person point of view" and totally hated it. So I'm not going to use it anymore. Which is good, because I'm going to introduce a new character to South Park!**

** I have always hated the girls on South Park. All of them are such prisses and idiots (well, on that show, pretty much everyone is an idiot) I get annoyed by them. So I'll be creating a girl…don't worry, she won't hook up with any of the boys. She'll be kind of a mediator for all our yaoi pairings XD. But also…I want a little jealousy in the mix. *evil face* (p.s. I won't dwell on her too long. This will be about the only chapter focused on her. The rest of the time she'll be a supporting roll. Chillax yaoi-freaks ;D)**

** Enjoy!**

Adriana followed the girl – what was her name, Wendy? – down the top hallway of South Park High School, where she pointed out not only where Adriana's classes were but also all about her own classes and the teachers and the teacher's favorite students and school clubs and _blah blah blah. _

If the girl didn't shut up soon Adriana was going to have to stuff her schedule in Wendy's pretty little mouth and relieve some of the anger she felt.

Like it wasn't enough that her father's job had brought them to this hick town after living in Cincinnati for years and she had to attend school with a total student count of like 500 kids, but her father – Orsino Diamante – was going to be out of the house from five in the morning till midnight every day for a huge project at the engineering plant he was just moved to. The new job more than doubled his paycheck, and he had promised that the working hours were only for a few days.

_You don't always keep your promises, _she thought wearily. Wendy actually shut up for five seconds as the bell rang at the end of second period and kids came streaming out of doorways.

"Okay, well," Wendy checked Adriana's schedule one last time. "Your next class is chemistry with Ms. Garrison. And your locker is number 307, just a few feet from the bathrooms." She gave Adriana a cheerleader smile and turned to go. "Have a fun first day!" She called in that high alto voice.

"You too," Adriana rolled her eyes and walked over to her locker, feeling the stares of people on her as she passed them. She ignored them and sat down her bag, reading the combination on her schedule and trying to spin it right on her locker. She felt a little pissed when it stubbornly stayed shut.

Adriana made a growling noise in the back of her throat and spun it again, hitting the right numbers in order: _42,5,31. _She pulled up on the lever.

Nothing.

Chuckles sounded around her and her face flushed. She used all of her arm strength in pulling up the latch until her fingers slipped and she succeeded in throwing herself back onto her butt.

Now the snickers exploded into full out laughing as she sat back up and forced herself not to punch the nearest person around her. A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see a pair of green eyes underneath curly red hair.

"Are you okay?" He asked, offering a hand to her. Her first impulse was to hit it away, but he looked genuinely worried and so she took it and he pulled her up.

"Thanks," she muttered, dusting herself off. "Son-of-a-bitch locker won't open up."

The kid gave a slight smile and went to the locker next to hers. "Our lockers are pretty much trash. They weren't even new when my grandpa went here. You have to jiggle it around some," he said, fingers moving quickly on the dial, "turn it a few times each way, then put in your combination and…ta-da!" The latch popped open and he unzipped his backpack with a friendly smirk.

Adriana did just as he said, and gave a little "Hah!" of victory as it opened. She brushed the bangs out of her eyes.

"Thanks, man."

The red-head beamed. "I'm Kyle Broflovski."

"Adriana Diamante."

Kyle looked at her for a minute and then asked hesitantly, "I'm sorry if this question…offends you but—"

"I'm Italian."

"Oh, okay."

"Obviously the only color girl you've got here, right?" She asked, scanning the hallway.

Kyle thought for a moment. "Yeah, pretty much. How are you liking South Park? Where'd you move from?"

"Cincinnati. And so far, this is the weirdest small town I've ever been to."

"How so?"

"Well, I was driving here this morning and I swear to God I saw a _towel_ sitting on the street curb smoking a joint. And I wasn't high."

Kyle blinked. "You saw Towelie? I wondered what had happened to him."

Adriana stared. "You… _know _the towel?"

"Yeah we had a little run-in with the government a few years back concerning him. Man, I haven't played that Gamesphere in forever."

He found Adriana narrowing her hazel eyes and raising an eyebrow. "Are you screwing with me? What's with the government and a Gamesphere…?"

Kyle closed his locker. "It would take too long to explain."

"Ah," Adriana replied uncertainly. She shut her locker and looked once more at her schedule. "Do you know where Ms. Garrison's room is?"

Kyle looked up in surprise. "Yeah, that's my next class. Here, let me see your schedule."

His eyes got wider as he read her curriculum. "Holy shit! You have like five classes with me!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Chemistry, English 10 Honors, Algebra II Honors, A.P. World History and study hall. Cool, dude."

Adriana raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Did you just say 'dude'?"

Kyle blushed. "Um, sorry. It's a habit me and my friends have…how about dudette? What do ya think?"

Adriana took back her schedule and walked past him, laughing. "I think you've getting high with the talking towel."

"Leave Towelie out of this!" Kyle cried in a dramatized voice. Suddenly he stopped and grabbed Adriana by the arm. "Uh, listen, I should probably tell you before we get there…"

"You have to take me out to dinner first."

Kyle blushed and looked at her completely serious face before letting go of her arm. "No! I was just saying you should know an important fact about Ms. Garrison."

"What is it?"

"Well…Ms. Garrison used to be Mr. Garrison."

She was blank for a moment.

"As in, she used to be a man, and now she's not. A man, that is."

"Oh." Adriana mulled it over. "Does she date men?"

Kyle rubbed his neck. "She used to. But the last time I had the pleasure of hearing about her lovely sex life, she was switching sides all the time."

"You got to hear about her sex life?" Adriana made a disgusted face. "When was this?"

"Fourth grade."

"Dude!"

"See! It's addicting!"

Adriana rolled her eyes again and walked into the classroom with Kyle.

As soon as Stan saw Kyle he stood up and planned to walk him out into the hallway for a talk, but froze when he saw the red-head laughing with a new girl he had never seen before. She was Kyle's height with olive-toned skin and short coffee-colored hair just above her shoulders. Her body was a perfect ten with long legs that looked toned. Kyle walked her up to Ms. Garrison's desk and smiled at her before taking his seat in the desk by the window. Stan sat down slowly, a frown on his face.

"Everyone, we have a new classmate today! Please welcome…what's your name again?"

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Adriana Diamante."

"Please welcome Adriana into our school. Now—yes, Eric? What is it?"

Adriana saw a huge guy in the back raise his hand and then reply in a very sophisticated manner that was pure bullsh*t, "Ms. Garrison, I don't feel comfortable in a room where an illegal Mexican is staying so close…perhaps we could send her back to Peru in a postal box or something? It would really help my ability to concentrate."

Kyle slapped his forehead and Stan groaned. Everyone jumped when Adriana yelled, "First of all, Peru is an independent country of its own in _South_ America instead of _North _America where Mexico is. Second of all I'm Italian, you dumbass. Italian means I'm from Italy. You know, that boot-shaped country in the Mediterranean Sea?"

"Italian isn't any better than Mexican!" Cartman retorted. "It just means you have more armpit hair than other women!"

Adriana made a confused expression and turned to Ms. Garrison. "Is there something wrong with him?"

"Yes, he's a retard," Ms. Garrison answered smoothly. "Eric, keep quiet or I'm sending you to the dean's again. Adriana, go have a seat in the empty chair in the back."

As Adriana walked by Cartman she flipped him off obscenely.

"Ms. Garrison! The Italian just flipped me off!"

Ms. Garrison sighed and rubbed her temple. "Deal with it, Eric. Okay class, we're doing a paired project on the gas laws we've been studying. This includes filling out this packet and coming up with an experiment for each law. This project is worth twenty percent of your semester grade. It'll be due in two weeks."

Stan passed back the packets and waited impatiently to hear who is partner was. He desperately hoped it was Kyle.

Ms. Garrison started reading off the list. "…Michael and Bebe, Sam and Lewis, Kenny and Eric, Stan and Kyle. Got it?"

Stan felt like hugging Ms. Garrison and dancing around his desk, but stopped short when he saw Kyle's expression of frustration. While everyone else moved to where their partner was, Kyle sat still.

"Oh!" Ms. Garrison said. "Adriana, I forgot about you. Let's see, you'll be with…Kyle and Stan. One group of three should be fine."

Stan saw Kyle smile a little bit and look back at Adriana, who shrugged and walked up to his desk easily with her long legs under her cargo pants. He felt just a little bit irked when they started talking.

"So, who's the other guy we're with?" Adriana asked, sitting on the large windowsill.

"Stan." She saw Kyle's face darken.

"What's wrong? Is he a major jerk like fat-ass over there?"

"No!" Kyle answered so intensely Adriana flinched. "Well, maybe sometimes but…we've been friends forever."

Adriana tipped her head to the side. "What's the problem then? Are you guys going through a rough patch?"

Here she saw his cheeks turn red. "You could say that…"

"Hello."

Adriana looked into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. The guy had pale skin and raven hair that seemed messy in a comfortable way. His expression was placid, but Adriana could feel tension between him and Kyle like lightning.

He smiled like a gentleman and held out his hand. "I'm Stan Marsh. Your other partner." Even though he was talking to her, she saw his eyes flicking back to Kyle.

_A little weird…_

"Adriana." She shook his hand once and was surprised when he flinched back and held his hand.

"Ow…"

"Sorry. We didn't shake hands much for greetings where I came from."

"What did you do then?"

"Hey! Italian chick!" The guy from before walked up with a blond kid next to him. "I do not appreciate you, disrespectin' mah authoritah!"

"Shut _up_, Cartman," all three boys grumbled.

Adriana raised her eyebrows at Stan. "We did this."

She suddenly hugged Cartman and said, "_Mi__piace__il formaggio__!" _and kissed him on the right cheek, then left, then right again.

"_Waah!" _Cartman cried out, touching his cheeks. "What did you do?"

Adriana concocted up the most evil smile she could. "It's an old Italian witch curse. First you loose all your teeth, than your skin melts off and then...well I can't bring myself to say what happens then. It scares even me." Her grin got wider.

The effects were astounding. Cartman's entire face turned red, then purple-ish, and he exploded.

"Aaaaaaaaaah! The forgein witch cursed meh! She _CURSED_ meh! My skin's gonna melt and fall off and _aaaahhhhh! _Ms. Garrison, _I'm goin' home!_"

He stomped out he door. Stan and Kenny and Kyle looked at each other and burst out laughing. Kyle stodd up and wiped a tear away from his eye and slung an arm around Adriana's shoulders.

"You're my hero, man," he laughed, not noticing the icy glare Stan gave him. "What did you even say to him?"

"If I told you," she purred, "it wouldn't be much of a secret curse, would it?" They stared at her. "Okay, I might have told him I like cheese."

"Um, why?" Kyle asked, confused. Adriana playfully pushed his arm off.

"Hey, come on! I grew up in _Cincinnati_! It's not exactly the best place to learn Italian. I don't even know if I conjugated the verb right..."

Stan coughed. "Well, should we start planning out our project?"

Kyle nodded and Adriana sat down on the windowsill above his and Stan's desks. Kenny hung out with them since his partner had taken off and listened to their plans while sthealthily reading a porno in his text book.

"Where can we meet up to study?" Kyle asked, avoiding eye contact with Stan and talking mainly to the air in front of the raven. "The library won't work since we have to actually build a model."

"Why not your house, Kyle?" Stan asked hesitantly.

He glanced at Stan and then looked away. "We're doing reconstruction on our carpeting and walls. It looks like a dump right now."

Stan was going to suggest his own house before he remembered Kyle was probably never coming over again. He wanted tell Kyle exactly how sorry he was and that he just wnated to be friends again, that everything coul be normal. But with Kenny and the Italian tramp there, he all he could do was plead with his eyes.

Adriana watched Stan staring sadly at Kyle who refused to meet his eyes. "Okay..." She blew out a puff of air. "How about my place?"

Kyle perked up. "Your house?"

"Yeah, my house. Me and my dad just moved in a few miles from school. It's not too big, and I haven't finished unpacking, but we'll have it all practically to ourselves." She held up her palms and shrugged. "My dad's going nuts on some huge project for work and comes home at like midnight. Then he leaves again at five in the morning." She blew a wavy strand of hair out of her face. "Psycho-dad."

"That sounds great," Kyle smiled. Stan frowned and felt annoyed again, but reluctantly agreed. Adriana started picking up more and more clues as the period went on and finally when the bell rang she wasn't surprised that Kyle hurried her out with him to English.

"Why are we leaving so soon?" She asked innocently.

Kyle shrugged, blushed, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Adriana looked back to see Stan watching after them with a mixed look of misery and annoyance.

She smiled to herself. _This might be the most interesting year yet. _

**Yes, I know, Cartman's dialouge sucks again. I can't help it, I'm not racist enough to come up with good blackhumor for him. I promise I will definitely work on it, though! **

**Obviously this charater isn't based off me. She's based off my sickening-ly gorgeous friend Carmen who cried and begged me to put her in a Fanfic.**

**Carmen: **_**I did not. **_

**Me: **_**Sweetheart, that was begging. On multiple levels. I was almost disgusted. **_

**Carmen:**_**I'm the one disgusted. You lie about me! I'm not even Italian, I'm from Spain!**_

**Me: **_**Well in here you're Italian becasue it's my slash story and i wanted to write an Italian girl for once so HA. What now, chica? **_

**Carmen: **_**Well fine! Then I'll write my own Fanfic and screw up your character!**_

**Me: **_**How are you going to screw up the character of a 5'5" white girl with no sexy accent or quirky traits?**_

**Carmen: **_**Squirrels...lots and lots of squirrels...and mustard...**_

**Me: **_**0_o you're just writing weird things to get poeple to think you're crazy aren't you? **_

**Carmen: **_**Let's just say it's an ancient Italian witch tradition wherein i keep saing 'squirrel' and 'mustard' until you crack and then dress in black witch clothes and make midnight sacrafices for—**_

**Me: **_**I'll stop the witch thing. **_

**Carmen: ***_**Victory dance***_

**Me: **_**But you're still Italian. **_


	3. Chemistry

**Ugh. My brain is fried. So this chapter will probably be a little weird and uncoordinated. Enjoy.**

As she had promised, Adriana's house was not all that special. It was clean enough, and the paint was fine and the garden was clear, but it was small and only one story, with a garage the size of a closet. The living room had beige colored carpeting and contained a two seat sofa, a large cushion by the brick fireplace and a coffee table in the center of the room. Opposite of the couch was an impressive TV with a fifty-inch screen mounted on the wall over a storage cabinet filed with DVDs and a DVD player next to a Play Station 3.

The kitchen was moderate sized with white tiles and countertops, a small oven and sink near each other and a black refrigerator by the hallway leading to the back door. A wooden-floor dining room was on the other side of the living room wall and had nothing but large boxes and an unassembled table on a large rug.

Adriana scratched the back of her neck nervously. "So, um, yeah. That's it. Down the hall is the bathroom near my room and my father's room, which I'd just ignore since he hasn't cleaned it yet…so, um…" She spread her hands apart and smiled at Stan and Kyle with a very red face.

Trying to shove off the tension he felt radiating from Stan, Kyle laughed a little at her expression and hand motions. She gave him a confused smile and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge.

"You guys want anything? I need to go grocery shopping again, but I've got some apples and leftover burrito stuff…and chips…"

Stan shook his head and sat at the counter. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. It's not that he didn't like Adriana; hell, it was nearly _impossible _to hate her, with her jokes and temper and gorgeous face. Stan felt like if he had met her a few months ago, he'd be the first to ask her out. But then these thoughts and dreams and feelings for his best friend – his _super _best friend – had popped out of no where and invaded his mind. No, it wasn't Adriana he hated.

He hated the fact that she and Kyle were acting like _best friends_.

Kyle had known her for _two days, _but here they were acting like they were old friends since kindergarten. Which they weren't. _He and Kyle were!_

Stan's eyebrow twitched as Kyle grabbed an apple and then stood right by Adriana, leaning onto the countertop and watching her unpack a notebook, chemistry book and the packet Ms. Garrison had handed out.

"So," she started, blowing a hair out of her face, "I figured we'd split the packet work, and then each of us choose one law since we only have to do three experiments."

Stan watched Kyle from the corner of his eye as he took off his green hat and his red curls bounced down around his face. Kyle's gaze flickered up and met Stan's, then he lowered his head and grabbed a pencil and the notebook as an excuse to look away. Stan held in a sigh and looked up to see Adriana with a signature eyebrow raised and perfect lips twisted in an all-knowing smirk.

"What do you think about it, Stanley?" She inquired as she opened the text book.

"Um…" He trailed off, looking at her blankly.

"I _said, _I'll do page three of the packet with all the formulas and equations and look up experiments on Boyle's Law, if that's okay."

Stan nodded dumbly.

"I'll do page one, explaining how the laws work," Kyle chipped in, his hand scribbling down notes at an astonishing speed but still with some neatness. Stan's always looked crazy and sloppy no matter how faster or slow he wrote. "And I'll start on Graham's Law."

"Okay," Adriana nodded as Kyle took a break from writing to take another bite of his apple. "That leaves you," she addressed Stan, "with page two. What law are you going to do?"

"Um…" He blushed as he realized he knew none of them. He saw Kyle roll his emerald eyes and dig a paper out of his folder with notes on all the gas laws and passed it to him. "Thanks," Stan said softly. Kyle shrugged; his cheeks tinted pink, and went back to writing. Stan ignored Adriana's bemused face and read the paper. "I guess I'll go with Charles's Law."

"Okay," she said, tearing each page off the staple and giving them their own pages to work on at home. With horror Stan realized they were all double-sided and filled with questions that required tons of thinking and equations. "Let's have these done by Friday and have multiple ideas concerning the experiments ready. We should probably look up more than one possible project since it might not work, and we'll discuss how to build them later." She shut the chemistry book. "That sound good?"

Both boys nodded and put away their papers. Kyle looked over at Adriana and said, "You know, you sound so…professional with this. Like we're closing a business deal."

Adriana smiled and brought out her graphing notebook and Algebra II textbook, still searching for a graphing calculator. "Well, I like to take the lead on things. It makes feel better about stuff. Hey, wanna work on algebra together?"

Kyle nodded and Stan suddenly felt alone. He wasn't in the honors math class like they were; he was in regular geometry with other tenth graders. He felt heat bubbling up in his gut as he watched Kyle scoot closer to her to share a book and stood up suddenly.

Both of them flinched it was such a violent movement.

"Stan?" Adriana asked.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked as Stan turned and grabbed his backpack.

"I'm going home," he said simply before he walked out the door and onto the sidewalk. It was stupid; his house was at least two miles across town, but he didn't care. The cold wind seemed like nothing to him; he felt hot all over. Hot from the jealousy, hot from the anger at himself, hot at Kyle.

No, he corrected himself. Hot _for _Kyle.

Stan started running, hoping to feel more cold wind biting through his jacket and trying not to scream at his fucked-up life. He kept running until he reached his street and slowed down to catch his breath. He was coughing a little bit, and felt his breaths getting tighter. But this time it wasn't an asthma attack.

He was about to cry.

Stan hated crying. It solved nothing, did nothing for you and made you sound like a complete pussy. Stan never cried. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. And now he was tearing up like a friggin' girl.

He walked up to his house and opened the door.

"Hi, Honey," his mom called from the kitchen. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Not hungry," he choked out, running up the stairs as quietly as he could to his room. He closed and locked the door, slumping to the floor. His leg accidently hit against the side table by his wall and sent his cup of pencils and a picture frame falling off.

He picked up the picture as a rumble of thunder shook the house. It was a photo of him and Kyle as kids playing with firecrackers and a toy car out in the snow. They were smiling, Kyle holding the firecrackers while Stan held the matches.

Everything was so easy when they were younger. Their biggest worries had been about toys or cooties. There was no pressure for perfect grades, no pressure to date, no pressure to not do drugs or to not drink. They didn't understand anything back then; their parents kept them in the dark about everything. Then you turn sixteen and you learn all about drugs and alcohol and relationships and financial problems.

Stan wished he and Kyle were like that again. In the dark, with no outside pressure affecting them, just being together with no stress like they used to be. But now, thanks to Stan, that had changed. Now Kyle would barely speak to him or look at him. Now Stan was going to lose his best friend to a gorgeous long-legged Italian girl who was probably a ten in bed and cooked perfectly and made a perfect wife and mother for their perfect kids…

Rain drops hit the window panes and lightning flashed as Stan hid his face in his arms and cried, the picture gripped in his hand like a lifeline as he drifted away.

"Should we go after him?" Adriana asked, watching out the window worriedly. Kyle shook his head.

"…no. He needs time to cool off."

Adriana looked back at him and studied his sad eyes and frown. She leaned up against the wall. "You know, you never told me what happened between you two," she said.

Kyle remained quiet but his writing hand stopped moving.

"You can tell me, Kyle. I can keep a secret. You obviously need to talk about it."

Kyle started tapping his pencil end against the counter nervously.

"I have a feeling you're the one that dealt him that black eye?"

He nodded and sighed, turning towards her but keeping his eyes glued to anything but her face.

"I'm…not really comfortable talking to Stan right now," he said at last after messing with his hair. "Something happened and…it was really weird. And wrong." Flashes of Stan's hands running over his chest and his lips on his neck made Kyle shiver. Adriana watched him with an inscrutable expression.

"So you guys fucked?"

Kyle recoiled and almost fell off his stool. "NO!" He yelled, sanding up to glare at her. His face turned red as he added, "Does…do kissing and touching count as fucking?"

Adriana's mouth went into an "O" shape and she blushed. Then she blew his mind by bringing her fists up to her mouth and wiggling around while chanting, "Yes! Yes! I knew it, I knew it, _I knew it! _I KNEW you guys were digging on each other! It was so obvious from the way Stan watches you like a hawk and you're too shy to even look at him…how was it?" She asked, sounding like a complete fangirl.

Kyle stared at her, mouth handing open. "Uh…well, it—no! NOTHING HAPPENED! Well, something happened, but we…we didn't…you know." Kyle looked down for the hundredth time and messed with his curls. He took a deep breath and burst out, "I was staying over at Stan's a week ago and he tried to play a prank on me by leaving a pink dress for me to wear out of the shower but I wouldn't so I went downstairs to kick his ass but then he ran into the bathroom and I saw him jerking off and then he pinned me down to the couch and kissed me and gave me a hickey and rubbed me in a place that no guy should ever touch another guy and then I punched him in the face and he tried to talk to me on Monday but I called him a bastard and told him to fuck off so there."

Adriana was speechless as her hazel eyes stared at Kyle as round as saucer plates. She said nothing as her mind absorbed it all in. Her lips moved to form words on several occasions, but nothing came out.

She licked her lips and shook her head, a glint showing in her eyes.

"Dude."

Kyle put his head down on the counter and tried to clear his thoughts. They felt blurry and out of reach, and he didn't know what to think.

Adriana sat down across from him and looked at him intently. "So…did you like it?"

Kyle snapped his head up and glared at her. "No! Well, I mean…" He let out a confused groan and covered his face with his hands. "I don't know, okay? It's just…it's weird to even be talking about this."

He messed with his pencil, rolling it back and forth along the paper. "I never thought of Stan like that," he blurted out honestly. "He's my best friend since we were babies…I always counted on him for everything. He was always _there, _you know? He was the only one I could vent to about my parents or school or anything. And then he just _attacks _me." Adriana saw an involuntary shudder go up his spine.

"But you still haven't answered my question. Did. You. Like it?"

Kyle growled and stood up, suddenly angry. "Did I like it? Of course I fucking liked it! I'm a sixteen-year-old boy who got jerked off by someone other than myself. But that's not the point! The point is Stan—"

"If it had been anybody but Stan, you wouldn't have let them get so far." Adriana interrupted. Kyle froze and fell quiet at the authority in her voice. "You would've thrown them off and beaten them to a pulp if they laid even a finger on you. Face it like a man; you've got some feelings for Stan, even if they're not quite as strong as the ones he has for you. Are you honestly telling me you had never noticed him flirting with you before it happened?"

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Flirting?"

"Did he ever touch you more than normal guys do? Ever catch him staring at you and then look away when you met his eye? Did he text you everyday? C'mon, Broflovski, do I have to paint a picture here?"

Kyle thought hard. He and Stan were always messing with each other, like normal guys do; play fighting, poking (Stan did it to Kyle just because he knew how much the red-head hated it), occasionally putting their arm over the other's shoulders when they were fooling around. But there were a few times—Kyle remembered abruptly—that Stan's arm had lingered on his arm, his fingers dragging lightly against his skin before he removed his hand. Kyle _had _noticed Stan staring at him more, but he had thought nothing of it.

Until now.

Adriana reached into the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke, popping the tab. "I'm guessing by your silence and wide-open mouth you've remembered some stuff?"

Kyle rubbed his temple. "What do I do?" He asked out loud to himself. Adriana walked back around to the counter.

"Would you like to hear my advice?"

Kyle looked up pitifully and nodded like a child. _He really is kinda cute, _Adriana thought.

"Tell him you're not ready for a relationship. Explain that you're not rejecting him; you just need some time to sort things out. Tell him you still want to be best friends, since I'm guessing that's what you want," she said, giving him a questioning glance. Kyle nodded.

"Yeah. I do still want to be friends. But…won't it be awkward?"

"How so?"

"Well…he did give me a hand job…and left this hickey," Kyle added, pulling down his collar and revealing a faded but still visible red and purple mark on his pale neck. "I guess what I'm saying is, I don't know if he'll take it well."

Kyle looked so dejected, so confused, Adriana put an arm around him and gave him a hug. Kyle stiffened for a minute, then relaxed and felt a bit of calm and security enter him.

"He'll understand, Kyle," she promised. "As long as you don't screw up or anything."

Kyle smiled and was silent as she let go. Then he started as a roll of thunder tangibly shook the house.

"Geez," Adriana said, looking out the window. "That storm really crept up on us. You want me to drive you home?"

Kyle nodded and put all his stuff away, finding his hat and placing it over his hair. He had to get home and make a very private phone call.

**Okay, I have to take a break from this because, honestly, my grades are going down the drain. Stupid A.P. classes. But if you guys inspire me with reviews, I might have time to write shorter chapters more frequently. **

**Anyway, we'll see. **


	4. Short but So Fluffy

**I have a break in my studies, so here's a short chapter to keep your hungry eyes at bay for a while. :) Mostly lemon.**

Kyle rode with Adriana in comfortable silence, watching the rain drops bombard the car's windows. He kept hearing quiet curses from Adriana every time her car went through standing water. When she pulled up outside his house he muttered a "Bye," and fled into the rain, running up the steps to his door.

His parents were sitting on the couch, watching tv. Ike, his nine-year-old brother, was absent-mindedly flipping through a comic book that Kyle as sure had some big-chested damsel in distress somewhere. He was starting to become as much of a perv as Kenny.

Well, maybe not quite that extreme.

"Hi, honey," his mom greeted. "Why didn't you let me meet your new friend? She sounds adorable."

"It's pouring, mom," Kyle said blankly, running up the stairs. "I have to study! No interruptions!" And slammed his door.

Kyle froze and listened intently to the hallway to make sure his parents weren't coming up to check on him. Then he impatiently peeled off his soaking jacket and socks and shoes, pulling out his cell and flopping onto his bed. He hit '2' and 'send' and stared out his window as it rang.

Once...

Twice...

_Three times..._Kyle gulped. He should hang up now, before Stan answers. Or even worse, what if he _didn't _answer? And what was he going to say if he did? _'Hey, Stan. Listen, I know you gave me a handjob and whispered dirty things in my ear as you sucked my neck and rubbed my chest but I just want you to know we can still be friends. _

Yeah. That's an icebreaker.

Just before the last ring ended a beep sounded and an uneven voice asked, "Hello?"

Kyle's heart leaped and his stomach tightened. His mouth was suddenly dry and a lump had worked its way into his throat. A paused stretched out before he heard Stan asked hesitantly, "Kyle..?"

_You idiot, say something! _His conscience screamed at him. Kyle blinked rapidly and said lamely, "Hey, Stan."

He heard the other boy suck in a pained breath. "Hey, Ky."

"So..." Kyle bit his lip and tried to organize his and Adriana's little conversation in his head. _What do I want to say? _"I'm sorry!" He blurted out.

Kyle could almost feel the confused look on his friend's face. "What? What the hell are you sorry about?"

"I..." Kyle stuttered. He rolled onto his back to stare at his ceiling. "I'm not sure," he confessed, laughing a bit. "I guess I'm sorry that I...that I don't really feel the same." Silence. He heard Stan shift. "But!" He almost shouted, "I still wanna hang out with you. I know things might not be, you know, exactly the same as before..._that_..." He felt his cheeks heat up. "But you're my...Super Best Friend, right?" He asked, painfully referring to their old elementary nickname.

Kyle could hear the smile in Stan's voice as he replied, "Yeah. Super Best Friend."

It was quiet as they each smiled at the opposite ends of the line.

"So...you wanna do something tomorrow?" Stan asked. Kyle grinned.

"I doubt we can do anything outside for a while..."he said, glancing back out the window. "Maybe hit the arcade?"

"How about we all go bowling?"

Kyle faked a groan. "You mean Kenny and Cartman, too? You know Kenny'll leave us to hit on the first semi-attractive women he sees. And don't I get enough of Cartman in school?"

Pause. "Do you...do you want to invite Adriana?"

Kyle lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Yeah, it had momentarily passed through his mind to invite Adriana with them, but he had figured that Stan didn't really get along with her.

"I was under the impression that you didn't like her," Kyle said, picking up his hackey sack and throwing it against his ceiling. He heard fabric rustling as Stan moved.

"Well, I didn't really at first but...with an ass like that, who could resist?" He asked cheesily. Kyle grinned back. "I'm surprised Kenny didn't jump her and start humping her leg the second she walked in."

Kyle sighed dramatically. "Will we ever understand the way Kenny's brain functions? I'd rather not."

Stan laughed. "You're just–"

"HEY, TURD!"

Even over the phone Kyle heard Stan's delightful sister Shelly yelling at him.

"Um..."Stan said. "I gotta go."

"Text ya later," Kyle agreed, hanging up.

Later that night, Kyle found he couldn't stop smiling.


	5. Boys DON'T Get MakeOvers

**Hmmm, so I have two Spanish orals to write and a huge test in Japanese tomorrow, plus review for my Algebra 2 final…yeah, I can spare an hour to write a short chapter. Lol.**

***WARNING* No hard-core sex in this chapter. Not for MANY chapters. So if you're horny, read some other stuff and come back to mine later. I mean, read mine later. **

**Enough with the A/N. On with the romance! XD**

On Saturday Kyle woke up at 7 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep. Usually he'd wake up and lay in bed for a while, enjoying the laziness of a weekend morning. But his nerves were running hot with the idea that in only five hours he'd be eating lunch with Stan and then they'd go bowling…and…

Wait. It wasn't just Stan. Kenny, Adriana and (unfortunately) Cartman were going too. He was getting all excited over nothing.

Blushing, Kyle quickly got out of bed and went to shower, taking more time washing his hair than he normally did. He accidently grabbed the wrong bottle and had squirted out a dollop of Herbal Essences into his hand.

Kyle was about to rinse it off when he paused, curious, and sniffed it. It smelled flowery, like you'd expect, but it was a very subtle flowery that could be mistaken for…man-smell. Whatever. Kyle knew nothing about what cologne was suppose to smell like.

Shrugging to himself Kyle massaged it into his scalp and rinsed it out, then got out of the shower and toweled off, slipping into clean boxers and an undershirt. He walked into the kitchen where his mom was at the stove and Ike sat at the table reading a comic book.

"Morning, Bubbe," she cooed in her New Jersey-edged voice. "Want some eggs for breakfast?"

"No, thanks Mom," Kyle smiled, grabbing an apple out of the fridge and heading back up to his room. He didn't feel like eating much; his stomach was doing back flips and he already felt on the verge of throwing up.

To steady his nerves Kyle sat at his desk and opened up his chemistry book. Time would go faster if he did homework and maybe it would get his mind of…nevermind.

An hour and a half later he got on Facebook to see what was going on with everyone over the weekend. Well, and maybe he wanted to check on his farm.

As he watered his plants and milked his cows, Kyle couldn't help but think of when he tried to get Stan to join the Facebook world. It may have resulted in Stan getting sucked into Facebook—literally—but Kyle found it sweet that even though Stan had hated it, he had still added him as a friend and helped his farm and…

Hold the phone. _'Sweet'? _

"Bubbe!" Sheila called form downstairs. "Your little friend is here to see you!"

_Stan? Stan's here? Why so early oh, God I'm not even dressed and my hair's still kinda wet and frizzy and I haven't even brushed my teeth—_

Adriana slammed open the door and stood tall with a _huge _purse around her arm. Her hair was up in a ponytail today, and she wore just a plain grey tee and her favorite cargo pants. "hiya, _Bubbe._"

"Wha—?" Kyle faltered.

"The bowling trip's off," she announced loudly, closing his door. He furrowed his brow quizzically.

"What do you mean?" He asked right as his cell phone went off.

Raising an eyebrow at Adriana's victorious smirk, Kyle flipped open his phone to a forward from Token. It read, _FWD:fwd:FWD: Hey my parents are out for the weekend and my place is open! Party saturday night, bitches! Be there!_

_-Token_

"A party?" Kyle asked skeptically.

Adriana's grin widened. "Yep. It starts at eight tonight. I've already called the guys; they said they'd be there. Even Stan."

Kyle looked away to his computer screen. "So? I don't care."

He could _feel _her roll her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, if we're going to a party at a rich dude's house, you need a make-over."

"Guys don't get make-overs," Kyle said automatically.

"Just a haircut."

He stared at her.

"And some new clothes."

His green eyes narrowed.

"And…maybe a few crash-course dance lessons."

"I can't dance," Kyle said dismissively.

"No, you can. You just need some…instruction. It's not hard, Ky."

"Look, I—wait, what did you call me?"

Adriana sat down on his messy bed and searched through her bag. "What, Ky? Do you hate it or something?"

"No…but I get to call you Adri."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Green eyes stared down hazel ones.

"So we're still on for haircuts, yeah?"

Kyle blushed and stood up angrily. "GUYS DON'T GET MAKE-OVERS!"

"Well, you're going to. You'd look so cute in a shorter hairdo…and I'm feeling some skinny jeans coming your way, beanpole. And maybe a frayed-edge jacket…" she stared at the wall, a tongue hanging out in concentration.

"No. NO. God-_dammit_, Adriana, NO!"

0o0

An hour later Kyle was sitting next to Adriana at the food court in the mall, nibbling dejectedly on a French fry. His long curls were gone and cut to small wavy locks that stuck out at attractive angles. His bangs were straightened and swept to the right of his face. On his feet were a new pair of Converse sneakers underneath a pair of jeans that hugged his butt but were a bit more lax around his calves. "So, you don't look like a coming-out emo," Adriana had explained. An army-green blazer lay unbuttoned over a black muscle shirt.

Adriana was very pleased with her work.

"You look pretty hot," she said normally, like she was commenting on the weather, "but even a supermodel can become a social outcast with horrible dance moves." She fixed him with an all-knowing stare. "I heard about your little misadventure in the rainforest and junk. How you couldn't dance to save your life?"

Kyle blushed beet red.

"Come on," she said, yanking him from his half-eaten meal to the arcade. She grinned evilly at him over her shoulder.

"Time for dance lessons."

**So, yeah. That's all for today. Time for homework…Sad face. **

**I will write more tomorrow, I promise!**


	6. Adriana's Up to Something

**Ummm, so, I kinda got grounded. Oh, not cuz of the grade thing, cuz guess who got HONOR ROLL! Me! But I did happen to dye my brother's hair blue as a prank…seriously. My and my friend Jamie did that because he is SUCH a dick. But, anyway, I just got my computer back.**

** Oh, by the way, if you're all getting upset over Kyle's stupid new look, don't. Personally, I like him better with his Jewfro and normal clothing. This 'make-over' is just part of the plot. Chillax. (And, **_**okay, **_**so I want Stan to really have dirty thoughts about him. Come on.) **

** Enjoy 3**

"Adriana! Wait!" Kyle squeaked out as she pulled him into the arcade. Lights from the games flashed and blinded him, nerds glued to the screens and some poor sap trying his hand at the claw machine and failing every time.

"Why are we in the arcade?"

"Because they have the dance game here," she said, pointing to the Dance Dance Revolution station.

Kyle glared at her. "I can't dance those insane moves."

"I know, hon. But I can. While I'm up there tearing it up, you focus on just keeping the beat. Lesson one: _feel the music_. Every song has the same beat to it, just at different speeds. You know," she added when she saw Kyle's confused look, "_dun-dun-dun_. Here, I'll show you."

She pulled out a dollar and stuck it in the token machine, earning four little gold coins. She stood up on the platform and chose Lady Gaga's _Poker Face. _As the music came on, she started moving her hips. Right, left. Right, left. Popping her knees, her feet, swinging her arms in close to her body, she moved almost naturally to the music.

"This is where you're at, Ky," she said over her shoulder. "_This _is all I want you to do. _This _is what I do."

As the chorus came on and the arrows started flying across the screen she moved her feet in an insanely good rhythm. She didn't miss one, hitting every arrow with a 'PERFECT!'. People started gathering around and Kyle started doing what she had shown him; he tried moving his hips, but that felt _so _faggy, so he raised his shoulders with the beat and twisted his body when he lowered them.

He _could_ hear the steady beat in the background, like the heartbeat of the song. And when it stopped, and Kyle stopped with it.

He looked up to see Adriana watching him with a breathless smile. "Try to do something with your arms," she advised as she slid another two coins into the machine. "And experiment with _everything_. Move your feet a little, at least."

Kyle groaned as he saw her choose _Hot N Cold _by Katy Perry. That whore's voice always grated on his ears.

He closed off his ears to her voice and listened to the drum beats in the background. This time he lightly, delicately, moved his hips and raising his arms a little. Right foot, left foot, right, right. Front, back, spin, shoulder pop.

Kyle Broflovski, the rhythm-less Jew, was dancing. And it wasn't embarrassing at all. A few people actually gave him whistles of approval.

Of course, it was nothing like the crazy moves Adriana was putting out, but still. Kyle couldn't wait to walk in that party and rub it in Cartman's face. That fat-ass had tortured him with that specific problem at every school dance or party, and now Kyle could do a whole lot better than his fucking German dance.

He wondered if Stan would like his dancing.

He imagined Stan's surprised face when he stood up and danced to a promiscuous song. Would he watch from his seat? Or would he get up and dance with him? Kyle could see Stan moving his hips and dancing close to him, sweat dripping down his chest—

Whoa. Kyle stopped trying to dance and suddenly had the urge to scream and beat his head against the door. What the fuck was that? He was imagining Stan…naked…dancing…sweating…crap.

He had to get to the bathroom, _now_. Even if it was just splashing some cold water on his face, he had to have some privacy. He'd like to put a bucket of ice down his God damn pants—fuck were they tight around the crotch.

_Face it like a man; you've got feelings for Stan. _

Adriana's piercing words echoed in his head as he pushed through the mob of people and sprinted down to the bathrooms. No-one else was in sight and Kyle breathed out in relief as he turned the corner into the men's room—

—And found himself standing right between a tall, angry guy he vaguely recognized as part of Stan's baseball team, who was standing just inches away from a skinny boy with wild honey-blonde hair and huge green eyes.

"Tweek?" Kyle asked uncertainly.

Only then did Kyle notice that the guy had Tweek pinned to the wall and had his face dangerously close to Tweek's.

Kyle stared, open-mouthed as the guy stood up and dropped his arms, glaring at Kyle the whole time.

"Well finish this later, bitch," he said, addressing Tweek. Tweek only whimper and hid his face.

He brushed past Kyle's shoulder in what was probably an intimidating way, but Kyle was more concerned about how Tweek was shaking so violently with tears just being held back.

"_Ngh, _uh, sorry, K-Kyle," he stammered out, standing up on wobbly legs. He was maybe an inch taller than Kyle, but somehow so much…_skinnier. _Kyle played basketball—he worked out and conditioned. But Tweek was just slim and skinny. If Kyle didn't spot him eating a sandwich at school everyday he'd think Tweek was anorexic or something.

"Tweek, are you alright? Who was that guy?"

Tweek didn't answer him at first, instead picking up a messenger bag he had apparently dropped and fishing out a thermos. Of course. The coffee fiend is ever vigilant.

Tweek took a shaky sip and answered quietly, "Ah, Jason."

"Right. What was he..?"

Tweek turned a bright red and his left eye started twitching. His long fingers started playing with the thermos lid nervously. "…eek…" Was all he managed to squeak out. His shaking started to get worse and then he was rambling.

"I—_ngh_—didn't want to but Jason said that if I didn't he'd tell the whole s-school that—_GAH—_I slept with the owner to get a job at Harbuck's. And I didn't want everybody to think I was a whore, man, _way too much pressure_, so I shut up and he, he…_GAH!_" Tweek dropped the bag and thermos again and grabbed at his hair. "I didn't want to kiss him but, _ngh, _he said if I didn't he'd—oh, _Jesus_—he'd hurt Craig and he called me a fag and, _GAH, Kyle!_"

Kyle grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands off of his hair, and holding them down against the tremors that racked his body. Kyle knew that Tweek had calmed down quite a bit since they were little kids, but he was still high-strung and paranoid. He only started shaking and twitching when he was seriously scared or pissed.

Right now, he was scared.

"Tweek, breathe. Calm down. He's not coming back."

Tweek took a few meditative breaths and relaxed his arms. His eyes closed—they were a deeper green than Kyle's, like olive green—and stopped shaking and twitching like he had turned an off switch.

Kyle was impressed, but he saved that conversation for later.

"C'mon, Tweek," Kyle mumbled, grabbing his bag for him and handing him the thermos. He led the coffee addict to a petite little café that that had just four small tables and an old TV up on the wall. The counter displayed numerous pastries and fruit, the lady standing behind it a middle-aged black woman with an apron tied around her midsection. Kyle smiled at her and nodded as they took the back seat away from the counter and TV.

"So Jason's been bugging you for how long?"

Tweek blushed and looked around for any listeners in the otherwise empty café. "A few weeks. Two weeks and three days, to be exact."

This Jason obviously wasn't the brightest kid in town. Anyone who messed with Tweek got an appointment with his buddy Craig. Craig had announced during lunch over the microphone in eighth grade that he and Tweek were now friends and, "Anyone who messes with Tweek fucks with me. Got it?" He had delivered the entire threat with his usual stoic, inscrutable expression and finished it with a grade-A middle finger.

People stopped harassing Tweek after that, except for this one shithead that kept slapping his thermos out of his hands and kicking it away whenever Tweek dove for it. Craig had appeared out of nowhere—really he had just turned the corner, but he had raced to Tweek's side like a freakin' ninja—and beat the shit out of him. Like, put-him-in-intensive-care ass kicking. It was epic, and it put up a wall around Tweek that repelled any harm.

For Jason to be sexually assaulting Tweek with Craig always on the look-out, in a public restroom, at noon on a Saturday, made Kyle absolutely sure this guy was brain dead already before Craig had gotten the chance to kill him.

Thinking of which…

"Where is Craig?" Kyle wondered out loud.

"He had to, um, go looking in Pet Smart for a new cage for Stripes." Stripes, his newest guinea pig. "I said I'd meet him outside the store. Oh, Jesus, what if he's there right now wondering where I am and he gets kidnapped by Skinheads and they force him into their cult and…I DON'T WANT CRAIG TO LOSE HIS HAIR!"

"Whoa, Tweek! Relax, I'm sure there aren't any…Skinheads in South Park."

"Hi guys!"

Adriana suddenly popped up like a jack-in-the-box behind Tweek, who in turn let out a small yelp. A few years ago it would've been a scream. Adriana fixed her hazel eyes on him with interest.

"Hey, you're in my Spanish class. Tweak, right? I'm Adriana." She gave him an angelic smile.

_Don't buy into it, Tweek, _Kyle thought as he remembered how she had physically dragged him out of the house and to the stores and salon. She was strong for a girl.

"Kyle, why'd you leave the arcade? You were really starting to get the hang of it. You almost looked coordinated."

"Screw you."

She giggled.

Tweek tilted his head to the side. "Getting the hang of what?"

"Dancing," Kyle groaned. "For the party tonight."

"T-Token's party?"

"Yeah," Adriana said. "Are you going too?"

_"Ngh, _I don't think so…Craig got invited, but I didn't, so he said we should just hang out instead, and then we drove here to get Stripes' new cage." Tweek played with his thermos lid. "I told him he should, ah, go, but he won't listen to me…"

Adriana looked deep in thought. "Tweek, if you go to the party, I bet Craig will come, too."

Tweek flinched at her loud voice. "W-what?"

Adriana whipped out her cell phone. "Do you have Craig's number?"

"Hold on a sec," Kyle rubbed his temples. "Adri, you don't even _know _Craig."

"I know him through Blondie here," she said, briefly ruffling his soft spikes. "Please? I just want to text him a little something."

Tweek's eyes narrowed, but then he seemed to give up on arguing and told her the number. Kyle thought that maybe it was time for him to leave as she punched in the numbers with her thumb, but, what the hell. Let's see what happens.

After a few seconds, "Hi, Craig. This is Adriana, the new girl at school. Listen, I just met your friend Tweek here at the mall this fine day and wondered if maybe I could take him as my date to Token's party?"

Kyle choked on his own saliva. Tweek's eyes got huge and a small squeal of "_What?" _slipped through.

Kyle could hear Craig's slightly nasal, monotone voice gain an edge over the line.

"What the hell are you asking?"

Tweek reached for the phone, but Adriana just winked at him and pushed his arms away. "Well, you got an invitation, correct?"

"Yeah…" Kyle nervously licked his lips. Craig sounded pissed.

"And Tweek did _not, _right?"

"Just skip to the point."

"Well, if he's on my arm, my invitation applies to him too, right? I was calling to see if you knew about any former ex-girlfriends I should be aware of, or maybe someone who has a crush on him that would hurt me it I showed up with him…" Kyle raised an eyebrow like Adriana would. What was she getting at? "Well, anyway, I'll just take Tweek off your hands and get him all spruced up for the party. Do you think he'd look better in jeans or khakis?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then,

"Where are you?"

Adriana's smile got even wider, like she'd hit the jackpot. "Half way to sexy town, baby. Well, gotta go. Lots of shopping to do."

She snapped her phone closed and looked from Kyle to Tweek, who both wore the same expressions of shocked confusion. Kyle, as always, had no problem breaking the silence.

"What the _hell _was THAT?"

Tweek's mobile in his jean pocket started vibrating, and he slid it out to read, "Craig" on the called ID.

Adriana snatched it out of his hand and answered it, despite Tweek's protests. She managed to hold the spazzing Tweek back with one hand while still hold the phone with the other.

"Helloooo? Oh, Craig!"

Kyle slapped his forehead.

"Hm? No, I do not live near a hospital, why? Well, considering the amount of time I'm spending fixing up both Kyle and Cutie, I _will _need a hospital. Anyway, gotta go, busy, busy! _Ciao!"_

She closed the phone again with a satisfied smirk. Kyle stared at her and shook his head slowly.

"What the _hell _are you up to, Adriana?"

**P.S. I actually do know a little café like that in my mall. I forget the name of it though…they have really good bagels. Anyway…it's 12:49 at night and I am kind of light-headed for some reason, so I'm wrapping this chapter up. **

** Read.**

**Review. **

** Comment.**

** Update your own damn story. **

** Goodnight.**


	7. Girl's Intuition

**So sorry for the wait for the party scene. I just couldn't resist adding Tweek in there. I love this kid. And I didn't think I'd use Adriana this much. I really like her. She's my own little creation! Sorry.**

By two o' clock Adriana had driven Kyle and Tweek back to her house. Kyle was a little pissed at being told what to do–wasn't he always?–and Tweek looked like he was about to go into a coma.

The blonde wore a brown and white graphic tee with white sleeves underneath matched up with dark jeans that just barely covered his long legs. He had refused to let Adriana buy him new shoes.

"Why not, Tweek?" She had asked.

"GAH! Because the gnomes stopped taking my underwear and started stealing my shoes! They said the underwear business has gone dry and now every night they sneak in and take my sneakers and sandals and even my slippers! If you buy me new shoes they'll just take those too–SWEET JESUS!" He exclaimed as Adriana started laughing. She looked at Kyle.

"Should I be worried about him?"

"Actually, the gnomes are real," he informed her, uninterested, as he played with the hem of his blazer. "They _do _sneak into his room at night. Their leader's a guy named Dato. He's alright."

Adriana stood up and walked off to the car muttering something along the lines of 'friggin' South Park' and 'stoner towels and thieving gnomes my ass...'

Now they sat in her living room as she put in a disc into her stereo system. Tweek yelped as his phone rang for the hundredth time.

"Ugh-it's, it's Craig," he told Adriana hesitantly. She gave him a sweet dimpled smile.

"Just ignore it, Tweekers. We're gonna surprise Craig at the party." She paused. "Hey, can you do me a favor and put some pizza rolls in the microwave? Bottom shelf on the freezer."

Tweek bit his lip and placed his phone down on the coffee table, want to call Craig showing on his face like a neon sign.

Once they were alone, Kyle rested his gaze on the Italian. "What are you doing, Diamante?"

She let out a chuckle. "What, you're calling me by my last name now? Does this mean I'm in the same ranking as Cartman?"

"What. Are you. Doing."

She let out a blinding smile and turned on the stereo. "Dirty Dancing" by the New Kids on the Block floated through the air as she landed on the couch next to Kyle.

"Just playing a little bit of match-maker."

Kyle looked confused. "With Tweek? Who are you..." It dawned on him and he laughed. "You mean Tweek and _Craig?" _He let out another laugh. "You really think Craig likes Tweek?"

"Trust me, he's got it _bad._ Did you hear him over the phone? Possesive. Protective. Kind of like a more hardcore version of Stan." She ignored his blush and protests. "And _look, _he's calling Tweek _again! _Can you honestly tell me that Craig acts that way with anyone else?"

Kyle shook his head as she realized she was right. "Are you psychic?"

"No. Just call it a girl's intuition."

"Hey I–ah!–know this song!"

Both conspirators snapped their eyes over to Tweek, who was standing in the doorway holding a plate of pizza rolls. He flinched with two pair of eyes on him and blushed as he sat down the plate.

Kyle felt his heart rate speed up as the smell of pizza rolls brought back certain memories. _Dammit, _he thought, _Now I'll never be able to eat a pizza roll without thinking about..._that _again. _Adriana scarfed down a couple and winced at their hot temperature.

"Thanks, Tweek. So, you've heard this song?"

The spaz nodded vigorously. "Y-yeah. I have it on my iPod. I dance to it all the–" His green eyes flew open and his mouth clamped shut like a stuck door. His face turned a darker shade of red.

_Does this kid blush like EVERY time someone talks to him? _Kyle wondered.

Adriana lit up with pure glee. "You can dance?"

Tweek looked down at his feet and played with his hands. "Well...I guess...a little bit..."

Adriana wordlessly got up and turned up the volume on Flo Rida's _Club Can't Handle Me. _

"Show me."

0o0

Stan sat fidgeting on the love seat of Token's ridiculously huge living room where twenty other people were gathered. It was nothing compared to the fifty people in the foyer, or the probable hundred out side in the pool or eating. Music pulsed through every room Stan walked through. He had to txt Kenny and see where he was.

_In the rich asshole's second story living room. Need a wingman. _

–_Kendoll_

Stan smiled and headed upstairs, dodging some drunk idiots that were sliding down the banister. He txted Kyle for the fifth time. _Hey dude, you here yet?_

The reply came one minute later: _Five minutes away. Adriana got lost._

Stan sighed impatiently and stuffed his phone in his pocket. The party wasn't any fun without Kyle there to hang with and to tease about his dance moves.

Stan finally reached the top of the stairs and wadded through the crowd of people as some song by Ke$ha played. He spotted Cartman talking angrily to Kenny as the golden-haired boy watched Bebe and her friends in the corner like a hawk.

Stan nodded as he joined them and pulled out his phone again only to see that the battery was dead.

"God-dammit!" He cursed, contemplating throwing the damn thing out the window. It had been fucking up for a while, and he had made sure to charge it the night before. Kenny raised an eyebrow.

"What? Is Kyle not coming?"

"He's coming, my phone just died on me. Kenny, will you txt him where we–"

"Kennyyyy!" Three girls cooed at once, encircling him, Cartman and Stan. "Bebe's saying that she could beat you at a game of strip poker!"

"Really?" Kenny asked in a low, sultry voice, flicking his sea-blue eyes over at the big-chested blonde. Stan recognized his voice as the "lady-killer" tone he used on the girls he targeted. "Well, we'll have to prove that wrong, won't we? But it wouldn't be any fun with just the two of us...why don't you ladies join in?"

They let out high-pitched giggles. Then one of them stopped and stared at something in the crowd. "Guys...is that the Italian girl and..._Tweek and Kyle?_"

Stan felt his heart jump into his throat and scanned the crowd, spotting Adriana in a tight fitting purple tank and ripped jeans with a studded belt and boots that, quite honestly, made her look _damn sexy. _Tweek filed in behind her, and Stan had to do a double take as he stood beside her in form-fitting clothes with spiked hair and no thermos in sight. He looked pretty hot.

He actually felt dizzy when he lay eyes on Kyle.

His hair. It was shorter, just below the ears, and anyone could see how it _wanted _to curl, but instead stuck out in a very becoming way. His normal khakis-and-tee were gone and he wore jeans that made Stan imagine naughty things and a black muscle shirt underneath a blazer that made his eyes shine.

_Hot DAMN!_

"Hey Stan," Kenny said nonchalantly, "you may want to close your mouth before someone decides to stick something in it."

Stan barely heard him as he pushed past the girls and walked over to his red-headed friend, subconsciously licking his lips as his hear rate soared.

He nearly jizzed his pants when Kyle caught his eye and gave a bashful, blushing smile and waved.

He was going to have to send Adriana a thank-you note when Kyle wasn't looking.

**Sorry it's so short. On a roadtrip to my friend Jamie's lake house for a few weeks and can't really type in a car that long without getting motion sickness. Promise to install the next chapter in between swimming and hiking!**

**P.S. I'm not that sure where to go from here. I want a lot of sexual tension but at the same time it's TWO HORMONAL TEENAGE BOYS and...well...we all know they get carried away pretty easily. What I'm saying is, sex NOW or LATER? Leave me some pointers. I know this chapter was kind of rushed. And suck-ish. ~ **


	8. Never Play Poker with Kenny

**This chapter will be a little...tipsy...clumsy...blah. I hope you don't hate it as much as I do. By the way, there is cross-dressing in this chapter :)**

***Kyle's P.O.V.***

I felt Tweek beside me start shaking violently as we opened the door to Token's big-ass house. Adrianna rolled her eyes at me and murmured something to the spastic blonde, which made him blush and caused his tremors to stop. Kind of.

I wasn't nervous; it was just a party, after all. I've been to lots of them before. But I _was _nervous about my new look. And these damn pants were tight around the thighs. We walked in and I got a few admiring glances from a select few girls; most attention was soaked up by Adrianna in her skin-tight tank and ripped jeans. And the spiked hair and studded belt definitely helped. In a way I felt relieved that she was like a lighting rod for admirers, taking the focus off me and Tweek, who was sticking close to me.

I never really minded Tweek; he was an okay guy, and for some reason his twitches and muttered paranoia never bothered me like it did others. The only thing that's weird about him, I think, is his eyes. Those things are _huge_. Two big hazel-green orbs under chaotic honey-blonde hair. Sheesh.

Adrianna led the way upstairs; I didn't question her. I doubted I would get a straight answer from her anyways. I checked my phone and found that Stan still hadn't texted me back, which was weird since he was blowing up my phone only a few minutes before.

We walked around for a minute on the second floor looking for the guys. As we pushed our way through the crowd Clyde and a few other guys shouted at me and waved, making cutting motions on their hair with stupid smiles on their faces. I rolled my eyes and mouthed thanks, then looked back to Adrianna only to find Stan _right there. _

Like, an inch away from me, so close I could catch the faintest whiff of his Swiss Army cologne. I felt my face heat up at the proximity and took a small step back. I raised my hand in a little wave like Clyde just did to me and his smile got bigger as he slapped our hands together and hung on for a minute in the familiar guy-to-guy casual handshake.

"Hey, Stan. Kenny, Fat-ass."

"Ay! I'm **big-boned**!"

"Kyle, what happened to your hair?" Kenny asked, sapphire eyes traveling all over me. "And what's with the tight jeans and Converse–"

"All _my _work, gentlemen," Adrianna cut in smoothly. "I took Kyle here on a little shopping spree. And made him get a–"

"_IT WAS NOT A MAKE-OVER!"_

"Haircut," she snickered.

"You look like a lil' _fag_, Kahl," Cartman sneered at me, crossing his arms. I flinched at the comment, and saw a similar effect on Stan.

Said raven turned narrowed eyes over to the Neo-Nazi and tilted his head. "Cartman," he said lowly. Fat-ass smirked in apparent joy as he fixed his honey-brown eyes on me again and I felt my face flush from anger. Kenny looked from Cartman, to me, to Stan, then back again with an interested look on his face. The tension was tangible, almost edible. I opened my mouth for a good retort.

"You _wish_, Cartman."

Everyone whipped their heads around to stare at Tweek. The blonde was gripping the hem of his graphic shirt harshly, but his eyes were narrowed and lips turned down in a frown. An angry frown. A small "eep" escaped when everyone's eyes fixed on him, but he continued in an unsure voice, "You just _wish _that Kyle was a fag, so he'd finally suck your balls like you always ask since no girl in her right mind-_ngh-_would, you fat sack of closet-gay shit."

My mouth dropped open along with everyone else's. Never, I mean _never_, has Tweek insulted anyone.

Cartman stumbled over a few words, then got out in a clear voice, "Fuck you guys, I'm goin' home!" and stormed out of the room.

Adrianna and Kenny cheered. I slapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "Tweek man...what the hell? What possessed you to do that?"

He looked down and blushed, fidgeting with his sleeves. "I-_urk_-uh...don't like it when people insult my friends."

Hm. That was a randomly heartwarming moment. I rubbed the back of my neck. "Oh. Well, thanks dude."

Tweek looked back up at me and we laughed a little at how gay we sounded until Adrianna threw both arms over our shoulders.

"Well, now that male bonding time is over...Tweek!" Tweek jumped. "How about you show everyone here what me and Kyle saw earlier, hm?"

"Oh no," I moaned.

"What?" Stan asked. I hadn't noticed him move next to me, between me and Tweek. I sighed and shook my head, running my fingers through my shorter hair.

"You'll see."

Adrianna dragged Tweek into the middle of the empty hardwood floor and ran to the DJ booth in the corner. (Seriously Token? Rich asshole...) The current music stopped and suddenly out flowed _"For Your Entertainment_". The lights from the booth turned into red and purple flashes as Tweek stood uncertainly in the middle, all eyes on him.

Adrianna floated over to him and whispered something. His eyes widened and cheeks blushed.

And he started dancing.

"Whoa," Stan whistled. I nodded in agreement as Tweek busted out move after move to the rhythm like a pro.

I looked up and over at Stan and asked jokingly, "Who knew, right ? The twitchy kid can dance!"

Before I knew it Adrianna was dancing with him as well and people cheered and clapped when they were done. As the lights went back to normal I saw a flash of dark blue and spotted Craig walking, almost jogging over to where Tweek stood laughing with Adrianna.

He grabbed Tweek by the arm and led him out of the crowd into one of the other fifty-two rooms of Token's house hastily, barreling past anybody in his way. Tweek hung on for dear life behind him. Me and Stan looked at each other as Kenny turned towards us and jabbed a thumb in their direction.

"What just happened?"

"Exactly what I wanted to happen." Adrianna suddenly stood beside me and made me flinch.

"God-dammit, Adrianna! I'm gonna put a bell on you!"

She laughed and Kenny fixed her with an interested smile. "_You _made that happen?"

Adrianna nodded and shrugged. "Just call me cupid. Or, if you prefer," she brought out a stack of playing cards from outta nowhere, "call me Ace. Anyone up for some poker?"

Kenny raised his hand. "What if we make it a little more interesting?"

"I'm not playing strip poker," I informed everyone. I thought I saw Stan chuckle and glared at him. Kenny shook his head with a smile on his face and beckoned Token over from a group of guys he was drinking punch with and laughing about some joke.

"Token, didn't you say you have a certain costume in the guest room over there?" Kenny tilted his blonde head towards the left to a cream-colored door. Token nodded with a confused look.

"Well, yeah, but it's–"

"Right, right, it was your _cousin's _but they _never wore _it, right?"

Token lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah...I guess. Why?"

Kenny smiled at us and I felt my gut twist like it normally does when faced with his perverted ideas. "How about the winner of the poker match gets to choose whoever wears the costume?"

Adrianna laughed. "I'm in."

"Me, too," Stan added.

"Hell, I'll play," Token concluded. Clyde came up behind him.

"What're you playin'?"

"Poker."

"Sweet. Deal me in."

"I've got wicked good luck," Kenny said, winking at Adrianna. Everyone looked at me expectantly and I found I couldn't refuse when Stan gave me that pleading stare.

"Fine." I sighed again. "I'll play."

0o0

It was down to Adrianna and Kenny. Not surprisingly I had been the first to lose all my coins. Following me was Token, who took it like a good sport, and Clyde, who sat and pouted while we watched. Stan had just lost to a straight flush and went to get something to drink.

He came back with two cups of punch.

"Thanks, dude," I said as he handed mine. I took a sip and swallowed, tasting an unusual tang in it. In seconds my limbs felt a little lighter. I looked at the punch suspiciously.

"Oh, yeah," Token said nonchalantly, "there's peach Schnapps in the punch. It _is _a party."

"Token! You should tell people before they drink it!" I looked over at Stan and found him chugging the last few gulps out of the entire cup. And these cups are _huge, _like 16-ounce cups.

"Dude!" I exclaimed, swiping the cup away from him and finding it empty. He grinned at me and said in an even voice, "Relax, dude. I'm not a lightweight like you. One drink isn't gonna do it for me. I'm just a little buzzed."

I frowned and stood up with my drink. "I'm going to go dump this down the sink. Be back in a sec."

I could feel his eyes on me all the way through the room until I turned the corner into the kitchen and poured the pink punch out and threw away the cup. I stood there for a a moment and calmed my breathing. Why did I get so worked up whenever Stan was near me? I shook myself and started walking back out when I heard noises coming from the pantry.

I came closer and listened, hearing shuffling sounds and...what might have been...clothes tearing. Then a voice reached my ears.

"_Ngh...Craig~ _we-we can't...not here–_ah!" _

Tweek's voice was three octaves higher than normal and made my face heat up. I backed away from the pantry and hurried out into the room, meeting Stan's eyes and walking quickly over to him, ready to tell him what I just heard–

When a hand slapped on my shoulder and I turned to see Butters smiling at me..

"Oh, hey, Butters."

"Hiya, Kyle! I just got here cuz I had to go and-um, and-um run a few errands for my mom, that's what I had to do. And I was looking around and I couldn't find any–well hiya, Pip!"

The British blonde appeared next to him with a cup of punch. "Talley-hoe, Butters. When did you get here?"

"Well, I–"

"Hey guys," I interrupted quickly, "I'm kinda going over _there_," I aimed my head towards Stan who was watching me like a hawk...Jesus... "So, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

I smiled and waved bye as I walked away. Sitting next to Stan I casually turned to him and started saying, "So you won't believe what I heard in the kit–"

"Take your jacket off," Stan instructed in an odd voice.

"W-what?"

Stan wrinkled his nose. "You smell like Butters now. Take it off."

"Um, no? And Butters doesn't have a smell to him–"

Stan grabbed the side of my jacket and brought it close to my face. "Smell," he ordered in a weirdly intense way.

I rolled my eyes and smelled, finding that it did smell kind of cinnamon-y like cologne. "Huh, so Butters wears that stuff too," I said thoughtfully. "Okay, so it smells like him a little. Oh well, it'll rub off soon. No big deal."

Stan's eyes narrowed and I sensed an argument coming when a victorious yell from Kenny interrupted us. We looked over and found him throwing poker chips up in the air while Adrianna hit the table with her fist.

"Dammit! McCormick, we are _so _having a rematch later!"

"Name the time and the place, baby," Kenny cooed. "But for _now_," he looked around at all of us and rested his gaze on me, cracking out in a grin that would give the Cheshire Cat a run for his money, "I want _Kyle _to wear the costume. For five minutes. And then you can take it off."

Well, that didn't sound so bad. Or maybe that was just the small hit of alcohol in me talking. I shrugged. "Fine."

"Adri," Kenny turned to the Italian, "you'll have to help him into it."

"Why?" Me and Adrianna asked in unison.

"It's got a lot of buttons in the back," Token informed us. Kenny suddenly stood up and motioned for the DJ to cut off the music in the background and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! Our own Kyle Broflovski is going to wear a costume for a few minutes due to a bet; please come over and set all cell phones on the tale." He winked and said, "We can't have anyone taking pictures of him now, can we?"

I wondered what was so bad about it as Adrianna motioned for me to follow her into the guest room. I did and shut the door behind me as people started walking over and discarding their phones.

"So Token said it was in the closet..." Adrianna murmured. "Go ahead and start undressing, Kyle."

I looked at her and she rolled her eyes. "Ky, I'm taking medical classes. It's nothing I haven't seen before. Just keep your boxers on."

She opened the door as I slipped out of my jacket and pulled the shirt over my head.

"Oh my God!" I heard her laugh and I looked up. And saw it. The 'costume'.

"Fuck Kenny," I growled.

It was in a long plastic bag on a hanger. Adrianna got it down and pulled it out. She ran her hands over the crushed black velvet skirts and matching bodice. The bodice itself had a strip of white with lace in the middle and black buttons running down, a black bow at the center of the chest area. There was a white satin strip across the middle of the dress like a belt and the short sleeves were puffy white with more lace.

Behind the maid's dress were fishnet leggings and black heels. A white lace hairpiece rested on top of it all.

We stood without breathing, and then looked at each other. Adrianna started laughing her ass off.

"Oh-my-GOD!" Tears came to her eyes. "Kenny-is a-GOD!" She collapsed on the bed laughing. She looked up at me.

"I'm not wearing it," I dead panned, gathering my clothes. She stopped me.

"You _have _to. Those were the rules."

"The fuck I do."

"Come _on_, Kyle, stop being a little bitch!" She retorted. "It's a party, most of these people you don't even _know_, and no-one's going to take a picture of you in it. Besides," she stood up untied the strings at the back, "if you don't do it, we'll rip on you for it. For a long, _long _time."

I tried to argue. I really did. But she was right.

And so, ten minutes later...

I stood behind the door as Adrianna stood outside, facing everyone.

"I present to you, for your viewing please, Kyle Broflovski!" I heard her grab the doorknob but pause to say, "And if I see any picture-taking, I will personally deal with you myself." I shivered at the venom in her voice.

The door was practically thrown open, and there I stood facing a mass of people in a slutty maid's outfit that only went down mid-thigh.

At the front of the mob was Stan, blue eyes wide and mouth even wider. Next to him was Kenny, smiling like a demon.

I was going to fucking _KILL _him.

**What will happen? If I get enough reviews...you shall see the smexy goodness . **


	9. The Truth

**HO-HO-HO-**_**YES, **_**here it is. The sexist piece of work I have ever typed. Mostly because I've never written Kyle in a maid's outfit, which is just a beautiful thing. (Btw, If you guys don't know who Hazel Burke is from the old tv show **_**Hazel, **_**you might not get the first joke.) **

**Kyle's P.O.V.**

Everyone in the room seemed to draw in a deep, surprised breath at my appearance. And then they let it out in three ways:

The girls started giggling and talking to each other in excited voices, a few even let out little squeals.

Most of the guys started cracking jokes, (_"Hey, Hazel, you wanna clean this spill up for me, babe?"_) and whistling.

Kenny was laughing.

I couldn't even bring myself to look at Stan for fear of what I might see and instead stalked over to Kenny and grabbed the collar of his hoodie, bringing him down to my level and glaring the shit out of him, trying my damned best to set him on fire.

Kenny swallowed his laughter long enough to choke out, "Well, looks like I was right."

I gritted my teeth. "About what?"

"About my theory of red-heads in maid outfits, sweet stuff."

I shook him as he started cracking up again and resisted the urge to punch him when I felt a tug on my arm and saw Adrianna grinning at me. "Come on, Kyle," she said, pulling me away from my victim, "they want you to dance."

I yanked my arm out of her grasp. "No. Fucking. Way. There is _no, __**fucking**__, __**WAY **_that I'm going to _dance_ in this _slutty_ dress!"

"If you dance," Kenny added in slyly, "You can take the outfit off when the song ends."

"I'll dance with you," Adrianna offered.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and lifted my arms to rub my fingers against my temples, then had to snap them back at my sides to stop the dress from going up too high. Whistles sounded behind me.

"Fine," I growled, snatching Adrianna's hand and pulling her onto the deserted dance floor. Might as well get it over with. I could feel Stan's gaze burning into my back from the crowd and tried to shake it off, which the DJ took as a sign to play _I Like It _by Enrique Iglesias.

Lights flashed as Adrianna started dancing with her hips, smiling at me and beckoning me to move.

_Oh, God..._

**Stan's P.O.V.**

I'm pretty sure there wasn't a drop of blood left in my head at this point. That dress was _amazing. _It hugged his body like a glove, that skirt floated around his pale, slender thighs...that choker resting just above his collarbone...big green eyes under a lacy head piece...sweet Jesus. And that blush. Icing on the cake, man.

I wanted him. Plain and simple. I admit it, okay? I admit it, I'm in l...in lo...lo...with my best friend. Dammit, if I couldn't _think _it, how could I _prove _it? I _felt _it, why the fuck can't I _say _it?

This was all Kyle's fault. All of it. His friggin' _laugh, _and his, his _smile_–oh God, that _**smile!**_ His eyes, his voice, his skin, his touch, his hair, his...his _Kyle-ness. _He was smart, he was funny and moody and sweet and _perfect. _

Dammit.

And now he was walking away to dance with the Italian tramp while everyone stared at him. I felt something in me stir and growl as I watched him hesitantly start to move. I wanted to cover him up from everyone else, take him away, do _something _to keep my perfect red-head from their prying eyes.

I saw Adrianna gently grab his arm to pull him close to her and I felt myself come close to growling. She leaned in whispered against his ear and he froze. I watched closely as his ears turned red and he messed with the hem of his dress, embarrassed.

And he started to move. It wasn't all that graceful, or awesome, but it stayed with the beat as he and Adrianna stepped and jumped and rocked their hips. I wasn't aware that my mouth had fallen open until Kenny closed it with his hand, smirking at me.

I think he said something but didn't hear him as the music stopped and everyone cheered. Kyle ran off the dance floor and through the crowd to the guest room, slamming the door. The crowd dispersed, some going to get their phones, some more drinks. Adrianna waltzed over.

"You know," she said almost seductively, slinging an arm around my shoulder, "he's gonna need someone to undo the buttons and ties on the back of that dress. But, ow," she whined half-convincingly, putting her index finger to her lips. "My fingers are all cramped up. Anyone here want to help him out?"

I glared at her and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I never was very good with come-backs...I shook off her arm and had to stop myself from running to the guest room.

_Okay Stan, _I thought to myself as I rested my hand on the handle. _You're going to help a __**friend **__out of a costume, got it? Just don't touch him. Keep your cool. _

I took a huge breath and opened the door, closing it softly behind me. To my left and into the room Kyle stood in front of a full body mirror. The hairpiece had been thrown to the ground right in front of me, followed by the heels and the stockings that made some kind of trail to the boy currently turned toward me, his neck twisted back to try and see his hands work the buttons and bows on the back of the dress and failing.

I could tell he was about to explode from the way every word coming out of his mouth was a curse of some kind. That's the thing about Kyle; the angrier he got, the more he cussed. It was like a temper gauge.

I walked into the soft golden light from the one lamp that was turned on and he sensed my presence, stopping his excessive cussing and abandoning his futile attempt to get the dress off himself.

My crotch was so hot and pulsing by this point it was painful. My hands itched to just rip that dress off him and tackle him onto the bed, sucking any part of him I could and touching him everywhere.

I let out a shaky breath and offered a pained smile. "Need some help?"

He looked at me suspiciously. Who wouldn't? I _knew _I looked ready to jizz my pants. I was _so close _already.

To my surprise he nodded and turned to face the mirror, showing me the back of the dress. He had managed to get a few snaps undone on his own, revealing little peeks here and there of pearly skin.

I tried to keep my breathing light as I stepped up behind him, lifting my hands to start. I had to remind myself he didn't want it like I did. He didn't fantasize like I did. He didn't feel about me like I felt about him. It hurt, but I didn't care. If I had to keep these words locked up from him to stay by him, I would. Because he didn't want it.

When I brought my hands down, my fingers rested on the first button and they easily snapped it open, along with the second, and my eyes widened as surprise sucker punched me.

Kyle was shivering. And it wasn't cold.

I snuck a look at his face; red as his hair.

I listened to his breathing; sounded like he'd been jogging.

My heart rate soared and I felt a strange sense of happiness wash into me. I leaned in and whispered, "You okay, Kyle?" as I very suddenly popped open the next two buttons. His breath hitched and his knees shook for a second.

"F-fine," he muttered, refusing to meet my eyes. He gasped as I pulled on the strings and made his back arch a little. Now he _did _look at me, his gorgeous jades wide and dark. I must've made record time getting the rest of those stupid buttons and strings off, staring at his face the whole time, feeling him quiver under my hands.

The back of the dress was now open down the middle, showing his entire back from neck to the base of his spine. I licked my lips and brought them to his neck that tasted slightly salty and kissed his fiery skin, yanking the dress open wider and running my palms over his spine and sides.

Kyle panted and made small noises in the back of his throat that made me growl in the back of mine. I traced my kisses lower, hands roaming everywhere like I had so wanted to do for _days. _How had I ever lived without kissing his sweet skin?

"_Nnmm..." _Kyle moaned into his arm as I slipped my right hand into the dress hanging loosely off him and splayed my fingers on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. I traced my tongue up every bump and beautiful curve of his back before lightly nibbling on his ear, finding some kind of pleasure in watching his blushing face. His mouth was parted and his eyes would squeeze just one moment and crack open the next.

Suddenly what I was doing slapped me in the face and I stood up, freezing in my actions. Kyle raised his head and blinked hazily at my reflection.

"Tell me to stop," I rasped out. He gave me a confused look. I swallowed. "Tell me to fuck off. Say you don't want it. Tell me the truth."

When he didn't answer I slid my hands out of the mess of a dress and stepped back from him. He struggled to find his balance on shaky legs and turned to face me.

"The truth..?" He parroted, biting his lip. One of his shoulders was exposed by the sagging sleeve. "I...I don't..."

"Shit," I muttered quietly, covering my eyes with my hand. Here come the damn tears. Why am I so freaking emotional? "Kyle, I don't want to force you into...into anything you don't want. Just...I'm sorry, okay? Sorry..."

I backed up and sat on the bed. After a moment of silence I heard him speak.

"Stan..." I heard the fabric rustle as he moved. "Stan, look at me."

I slowly look up at him and almost died. The dress lay at his feet in a puddle of silk. His green boxers were the only things hiding his glorious body anymore.

It felt like a dream when he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back onto the comforter, hovering above me on hands and knees. He lowered his head to place a single, sweet kiss on my lips that was so tender I felt like crying.

"I'm not sure what the truth is," he admitted sheepishly. "Whether I just want your body," I came close to blacking out, "or am just confused or...or if I...if I'm in love with you."

Oh, this has _got _to be a dream. No way is life this perfect.

But here I was, awake, alive, looking into a pair of green eyes that had always haunted my fantasies. I smiled and rolled us over to where I was above him and kissed his lips. I pulled away and kissed his forehead, holding his face in my hands.

"Kyle."

"Stan."

I rested my forehead on his as he flashed a smile that outdid the sun.

"I love you."

**HAH! Got you! Thought they'd go all the way? A little dry-humping or a bj? Nope! **

**Know why? Cuz I want more reviews. That's right. I want at least 55 reviews or there will be no final chapter. Get it? Good. **

_**55 reviews or no sexy last chapter.**_


	10. Happily Ever After

**Wow you people delivered. Horny perverts :P Just kidding, I 3 you all. Here it is: the final chapter. WARNING: Majorly cute, hot, sweaty smut. (yay)**

Cheers and black caps flew into the air as the graduating class of South Park High hugged each other and tried to soothe their crying parents. The May sunshine lit the entire park with a cheery, infectious glee that had everyone smiling.

But no-one's smile is brighter than Kyle's, so Stan thought.

Top of the class, highest ACT and SAT scores in South Park history, president of seven clubs and recipient of twelve academic awards. Stan's heart exploded as his boyfriend smiled those pearly whites at him, his flaming hair ignited and green eyes down right radiant.

They hugged as Kyle laughed when Kenny and Adrianna snuggled up next to them.

"Alright dudes," Kenny laughed, tucking his diploma into the sleeve of his graduation robe, "Party tonight for all us grads. You two in?"

Stan and Kyle locked gazes and Kyle slightly shook his head with an almost invisible smile. "Sorry, Ken," the red-head murmured. "But we already have plans."

Stan raised an eyebrow and smiled. "We do?"

Kenny laughed and grabbed Adrianna by the shoulders. "Cool. See you guys later."

The Italian and blonde walked away, followed by Cartman who muttered "Fags," under his breath as he passed. Kyle just rolled his eyes.

"Let's go home."

Home. A one-bedroom apartment with a too-tiny bathtub and miniscule kitchen. The heater didn't work half the time, they got five channels on their obsolete TV, and altogether they had five pieces of mismatched furniture. It had been battle after battle with their parents (okay, _Kyle's_ parents) to buy it with their combined income from part-time jobs; luckily the landlord knew Kenny (Kyle didn't want to know how) and discounted their rent.

It was theirs. Until they left for college.

Of course Kyle was flooded with mail, phone calls, emails etc. from a hundred plus colleges to attend their school. Stan, in comparison, got about ten for his football and baseball scholarships. Together they narrowed the list down to one school they could both attend on different wavelengths.

For now Stan sat on their bed, in nothing but jeans, wondering what exactly Kyle was doing in the bathroom for so long. A knot of apprehension twisted his stomach and he wondered if they were finally...going to..._go all the way. _

Kyle had been expectantly shy after the little confession in Token's bed room two years ago; Stan had gotten limited—but _good—_action. He felt no need to press Kyle into it; he knew it would happen eventually. And tonight _was _a special night...

"Okay!" Kyle called from the bathroom. "Close your eyes!"

Stan smiled and covered his eyes with his hands. He heard the bathroom door open and light footsteps walked over to him.

"Open," a sultry voice tickled his ear. Stan shivered and opened his eyes.

"What do you think?" Kyle asked innocently, fiddling with the hem of the lacy pink nightgown hugging his body. Stan's mouth went dry and a familiar but exciting tingling made its presence known.

"I..."

He was silenced by Kyle bending down and covering Stan's mouth with his own, slipping his tongue in and slowly straddling him, making their arousals touch through jeans and lacy panties. Kyle moaned as Stan ran a hand up the nightgown and squeezed his ass firmly before running his fingers up his sides and back; Kyle replied with a shift in the kissing angle and slight grinding that drew a grunt from Stan.

"Damnit, Kyle..."

"Yeah?"

"You are so fucking gorgeous."

Kyle blushed and before he could protest Stan attacked his neck with nips and kisses, his hand moving to the front of Kyle's body and running over nipples.

"Ah~n, Stan..." Kyle moaned as he bucked hard into his hips. He teasingly got off of Stan—to his confusion—and got on his knees in front of him, moving his hands up and down Stan's toned thighs, horribly close to the hot point between Stan's legs.

Kyle leaned forward and locked eyes with Stan as he grasped the zipper with his lips and pulled down agonizingly slow, pure lust showing on his face. Stan panted and gently ran his fingers through Kyle's curly waves, licking his lips like a hungry dog.

He almost growled when Kyle mouthed him over his boxers. "Kyle, _please,_" Stan whined, stopping himself from bucking into his mouth. Stan saw him smile and pull his waistband down, exposing his half-hard length.

Kyle grasped it firmly and squeezed, earning a quiet moan. He gave a lick and got a cuss. He took it in his mouth and heard Stan nearly scream. Kyle knew what to do by now. He sucked the head hard and rhythmically, made his tongue swirl around it, stroke the base he couldn't get to with his fingers.

He felt beads of precum hit his throat and pulled off. Stan looked at him, eyes blurry and almost gone. "Wha..?"

"Stan." Kyle kissed him and pulled back, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"What?" Stan asked, still a little pissed at not be allowed to come. "What is it? You wanna stop?"

Kyle shook his head and chuckled nervously before whispering into Stan's ear, "I want you to fuck me."

Stan's eyes widened and he felt his length twitch. "R-really?"

Kyle nodded and pushed him over, tearing off the nightgown and panties. Stan quickly got out of his pants and took Kyle's face in his hands, running over his smooth skin.

"I love you."

"Love you more, dude."

Stan took Kyle down with him, rolling over until he was on top and running his tongue over every inch of his body until he arrived at his arousal, already leaking. Stan chuckled and gave a swift lick to it; Kyle mewled in surprise and pleasure.

"A little exited, are we?"

Kyle was breathing hard now. "Shut—up..._hah,_" He exhales as Stan kissed the tip and moved lower to the puckering pink entry below his length. Stan reached up to his mouth.

"Suck."

Kyle took Stan's hand and placed three fingers in his mouth, dragging his hot tongue around and between his fingers. Stan growled and pulled them back, getting too lost in the sensation to focus on the preparation at hand.

He slid in one finger up to the second knuckle—Kyle exhaled uncomfortably. "You okay?" Stan asked heavily. The sheer _heat _and _tightness _inside of Kyle was making it hard to speak. Kyle nodded and blinked at him to continue. Stan slid it out a little and added his middle finger as well, sliding both in; this time Kyle hissed and whined in the back of his throat. Stan kissed his face and neck to hopefully distract him as he slid in the third finger.

Kyle bit his lip and clenched his hands. Stan moved his free hand to his length and started pumping; a few moans were now mixed in with the hisses. Stan was getting more and more turned on by watching Kyle's face shift from pain to pleasure then both in just a blink and knew he wouldn't laast long when Kyle said, "Okay. I'm ready."

Stan didn't believe him. "Kyle—"

Kyle guided Stan's face to his and kissed him long and hard. _"Pretty please?" _He asked in his most desperate voice. Stan moaned, defeated, and kissed him back harshly before positioning himself above Kyle and sliding in.

They both moaned; Kyle's entire body clenched up while Stan fell apart, arms shaking as he struggled to remain upright. He could only think, _hot, tight, Kyle, so hot..._

Kyle felt like he was being split in half, but when he managed to crack open an eye and see how completely blissed Stan looked...it made a flush of warmth run through him. He placed his arms around Stan's neck.

"S-Stan...move..."

"You sure?" He panted.

"Mm," Kyle groaned, not sure his voice would keep up.

Stan did a small, experimental thrust that left him quivering and Kyle tearing up. He slid out and back in slowly, moaning; Kyle tried to keep his screams back. It hurt like _HELL. _But it was Stan inside him...oh God he was _inside _him...

Kyle's eyes flew open as a surprising burst of pleasure jolted through him and really groaned for real. "There," he nearly begged, desperately squirming to find it again, "whatever you just did, there again, _there_."

Stan repeated the rolling thrust and hit something in Kyle that made his head spin; he knew Stan had found his prostate. He wrapped his arms tighter around him and basically pulled himself off the bed.

_"More, Stan," _He moaned as Stan pressed him against the wall and gripping his thighs with both hands, pounding him into the wallpaper. He was ready to explode right now, and could tell Kyle was close...

He started stroking Kyle's length and he cried out loudly.

"Fuck...Stan!...Ah, s-shit, I'm co—_a-ah!_" He yelled and threw his head back, arching into Stan. Stan bit his shoulder as he came and gave a few lazy thrusts in the sensitive afterglow. They collapsed back onto the bed, a panty, sweaty tangle of limbs.

Kyle sighed contently and nuzzled into Stan's shoulder. Stan turned to look at him.

"Just so you know, I'm never wearing that nightgown again." Stan raised an eyebrow. "And next time we're using lubrication. Felt like you were shoving a steel rod up my ass."

"I love you too."

Kyle smiled shyly. "Wanna...go again?"

**So yeah, not as good quality as my other stuff since it's mostly physical stuff. **

**FYI—for those of you that like my stuff, I'm writing a new yaoi fanfic for the movie Mulan. Want more info? Check out the fanfic. See ya around!**


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